


Horizons

by fuchsiagrasshopper



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Human!Smaug, Kidnapping, Licking, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Smauglock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:18:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 102,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuchsiagrasshopper/pseuds/fuchsiagrasshopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She could feel his heat radiating from his chest, on to her back as he hovered over her. Determined to show no fear in the face of his dominance, she adjusted her shaky limbs as his claws came around either side of her body "Little lamb, your fear smells sweet" A cloud of smoke circled her neck and she looked over her shoulder at his ardent face as he continued to speak. "You should be afraid"<br/>Not quite human, and lost in the vast sexual strangeness between them, she continued to struggle, even as she was certain he had already won.<br/>Love rises, though all there be is ashes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ash

A silent horizon. The birds weren't singing nor nesting in close proximity to a toxic fume, and the spaces between the boughs were scarce in the small brush of forest that dusted over the plateau and mountain side. Summer was fading into the chill of autumn, a voice that whispered over the valley as nature prepared itself for the vast change. The air was quiet, only the echoes of stones tumbling downhill from the gentle wind, nothing stopping its westerly course as it blew through tree, grass and building alike. The ruins of Dale could hardly be considered real buildings anymore. No abode there hosted comfort and warmth from the elements, not after the decay that swept through the paths over time. A tangerine sun hung over the destroyed city, casting shadows against the sharp corners that grew longer on the ground as daylight fell away. It had only been the passing of a fourth decade in which the city was loss of life, abandoned in fire and fleeing terror from the one who lay in the mountain.

Tales of Smaug had grown faint in the passing generations until only mere whispers of his awful magnificence remained. No eye had taken to seeing the red wyrm come out from the mountain, and none thought he ventured from its bowels any longer. Dragons could live off of one last hardy meal before ages in slumber, and that was the hopeful belief amongst the many. Better unseen as it meant they were safe in their beds another night, and if ever he did leave the mountain without their knowing, he couldn`t have ventured far or high in the sky for them to pay any heed. No alarm had been raised, and the residents of Lake Town were content with the way things laid.

Of all the things to go through her mind as she left, she thought the lot of them fools for living with such a naïve concept of security. Lake Town was no longer her home though, and she had started her day like any other, her behavior unnoticed even as she continued to leave by boat up the lake. Her early start at dawn began with her packing dry bread, hard cheese, a skin filled with chilled water, and a woolen blanket. She had passed by fish markets, taverns and spruce lodges in town before she came to the docks. No one had tried to stop her. They had been seeing through her lo those many years, so her departing had been witnessed without effect. The apparent sickness she suffered from made her a child without parents, a woman without a name. She couldn`t even say for certain if she was of the race of men.

In the confines of what was normal, she befitted the title of 'odd'. An anomaly that no man had ever seen before. She was still breaching into the years of womanhood, forming into a maiden without a house or title. Hers was a face thought ugly, and people turned away from her, aquiver in fright. The years had made her skin grow thick to such malevolent attacks, though she had lost the favour of looking at her own reflection. She was careful on the water not too look down and see what image was already burned in her mind, like a scorch mark on fur, as it brought about ill feelings. While age dictated she should resemble a mature woman in years, she was still youthful if not adolescent in face. Her cheeks were well rounded like a pair of plums, one slightly larger than the other. Gangly body, neither tall nor short, and a pair of long hands and feet that would have suited a dancer if she had any rhythm in her bones to speak of. Folks couldn't get over the idea that she was dying slowly of an incurable disease. Her skin was a little more ashen to be brushed off as pale. Living on the lake made it impossible not to get sunbaked after all. The lavender tone in her blonde hair appeared gray in the wrong lighting, and some thought she was an old hag, perhaps delving into magic to preserve her youth. Illness or magic, it made no difference to her. As far as she could remember, this was how she was, and had always been.

Seven days and nights she had journeyed. Her food was already running low, not that it mattered now. Her body had gone frail in the passing weeks, and she was under the assumption that there was a sickness in her, eating through her until she'd waste away, like flowers to snow. She wanted to go in her own way, alone without the judgment and words spat behind her back, or worse, to her face. She limped through the cold, the air clearer up on the mountain as she mindlessly walked the ruined city. The air she breathed was filled with ice, burning cold as it went down her windpipe and into her lungs. No water did she carry, and only crumbs of the bread and cheese remained. The thin wool cloak brought a shiver to her body, like being wrapped in a sheet of ice, while the boiled leather vest and cotton pants she wore beneath were powerless to stave off the northern weather. She tugged at her braided hair as she lowered herself into the nook of what was left of a storage house. The sun was peeking through the caved in roof, lines of light beating down upon her as she hugged her limbs close to her chest. She balled up the blanket she had brought with her, bringing her head down upon it, not bothering with the warm it could give her now. The cold wasn't so bad. It stung at first, pinching the skin tight until the first layer was hard and red from the frost. Her insides were left melting into a warm pool, and fatigue was a struggle to fight as her eyes looked up at the pale blue sky. It was quiet, but she hadn't been searching for sounds, only a place to die.

* * *

The hour had grown late as the mountain was ever unchanging. He liked the familiarity here, the assurance that no power could ever best him in his high castle above lesser beings. He slept through the changing seasons for many years, little fluctuations that were but a blink of an eye in his life. While awake, no alterations had come to the mountain, and his plunder remained intact. The hand of greed could not extend its reach to him, and never did he fret over the stirrings of men, elves and dwarves alike.

Coins of gold and silver glided away from his body, like a torrent of water, as he sat up on his haunches, both layers of eyelids peeling back as he gazed upon the glory of his hoard. The thick hide of his wings unfolded, and his jaw snapped closed like a locked coffer as he finished off a yawn. The ivory gleam of his teeth had caught the bright reflection of gold, polished clean without a meal passing through his gullet in the months he had slept. In order to stay the hand of laziness, he oft would wake between months at a time to sate his hunger with a catch of bulk and fat that would stay in his belly to tide him over during slumber.

The length of his claws was impressive as he spread them apart, each edge sharper than any spear of man. He dug his way up through the piles of treasure, the air around him stagnant as the world outside was shutout from entering the mountain, no breeze or trickle of water had touched his scales in the weeks that had passed. Bursting up suddenly through the air like a cork from a bottle, the King of the mountain slipped through the beams and columns of the dwarf city, his reptilian body soaring between rock and stone as he broke into the daylight through the top of the mountain. Twas a height that only he could achieve as he flapped the great span of his wings, cutting through the air like a knife through soft butter. The golden hue of his underside was dazzling; to look upon it was worth more than all the wealth of any Elf King. The rest of his scales were as rich red as the rubies among his treasures, and harder than diamond.

His amber eyes stole sight of the mountain side, looking for any creature to capture in his jaws. His tongue could taste the air, a foreign scent amidst the frozen smells of the Lonely Mountain and its plateaus. His eyes took to the destroyed city of Dale, his gaze now fixed upon it as a rumbling growl coursed up through his throat and slipped out from his lips as he turned his direction, thoughts only occupied on the ruins. Who dared to travel so high into the midst of his territory? A fool and a thief. No sounds came and the intruder was alone as he smelt and tasted the air. Female, her moon cycle had come to pass five days before, and there was a bitter hint of lilac and fish from the markets of those lake men. As he caught himself on the side of a ruined structure, his claws digging into stone and mortar, he peered between the rows of buildings, catching the close scent as his tail whipped back and forth in a display of anger. A heartbeat was steady, alive and breathing away from his sight as he hovered above the city with an occasional beat of his wings. He created a great bluster of wind that filtered through the thatched roofs, mixing up a cloud of debris on the paths as he poked his large head down between walls to look for his little thief.

Her heart was slowed from the cold and he wondered how many days she had hid in shelter before he had acknowledged her intrusion. While he could not fit his body down into the streets of the city, he could tear the roofs from the buildings, and his acute senses led him to a brick storage house, shattered pottery abandoned at its door while a sizable hole in the ceiling allowed for his large eye to peek inside. It narrowed into a black slit as he viewed a girl sleeping, a faint smell of death emitting from her even as she was very much alive from the rise and fall of her chest. She had no supplies, making for a very poor thief if she had gotten far enough to try. While it was impossible for his size to keep quiet, she was barely clinging to consciousness as she hadn't awoken from the thunder his wings caused. He drew back, lifting higher into the air as he struck his tail against the building, knocking the roof clean off as the sun poured into the exposed crevice.

The girl stirred awake upon the chaos, her eyes weary as she clutched at her chest, dusting away the rocks and straw that had fallen onto her body. She must have realized the sudden warmth from the sun as she looked up startled, her bark brown eyes meeting the vision of his immaculate form. A small noise escaped her as she slid her body back against the broken wall in terror. Her hood had fallen from the crown of her head, revealing coarse, pale hair, an array of silver lavender mixed through the strands, though she was too fair in face to be old in years. In the short span of her life, she looked to be springing into womanhood, awkward and bizarre to behold in the threads of man. He cared little to understand the beauty of lesser beings, her only handsome feature being her hair, a resemblance to mithril.

"There you are thief!" He spat, vocal cords drumming up a deep sound that made her eyes pop, as if she hadn't expected him to speak.

Dull creature, she stood clumsily and began to sprint away from him on her narrow feet, heavy boots clunking on the cobblestone. Much like a jackrabbit fleeing a lynx, he knew she wouldn't get far. Her hands grabbed at the buildings she passed as she attempted to duck around corners to throw him off of her trail. He merely drifted above, watching as she became trapped in her own labyrinth as she came to a dead end of a street. Her fingers like sticks flattened against the wall, as if in her desperation she could wish the obstruction away. It was plain that she flattered herself into thinking he thought her a suitable meal, but he was much too prideful to ingest something so sickly into his body. Her presence was unwelcome so very close to his plunder, and it had been long since any man had even dared to venture so high, yet this  _girl_  had done what her people would say is unwise.

"It is bravery or ill advisement that has brought you here girl." His voice was sharp in vengeance, like the crack of a whip as he clawed at the buildings above her. Straw and shingles breaking away on to the path below as he crept closer, his neck bent as his head lowered closer to her trembling frame, "Speak!" He commanded.

She jumped, her shoulders lifting in surprise as her hands went for her ears to shield from his hard voice so very close to her person. His head was massive, and she so small that she had to look up the length of his snout, the puffs of air from his flared nostrils wrinkling her clothes as he exhaled. All at once her voice seemed to come back to her, she blinked a few times as her stance solidified, "I am sorry . . . oh Smaug the resplendent. I mean not to steal from you or your mountain. One so lowly as me, I am only a beggar without a home."

He opened his mouth wide, flashing his straight set of fangs, all perfectly white, and more importantly sharp for cutting into his prey. A plume of smoke wafted into the air, expelled from him as she held back a choke, her hands coving her nose and mouth as she wheezed. Her eyes burned brightly red with tears combating the dryness, her body racked with shakes once more. "You lie." He said deeply, testing her resolve to her story.

"I am no liar!" She responded indignantly.

He snapped his jaws before her face as she winced back, hoping to be swallowed by the affronting surface of the wall, "Insolent girl. You are quite proud for the beggar you claim to be."

With her harsh frown and unconsidered reply, it was conceivable that she was hunting for death, be it from ice or fire. He cared nothing of her pain, and she furthered in her disgraceful acts against him as she took a step forward, slapping her boney hand down on his snout between his nostrils. She didn't attempt to run as he reared his head back, a roar bellowing deep from within. Between the scales of his underside, his chest began to glow hot red, summoning his fire up from his thorax to his gaping mouth poised high, aimed for the girl. The explosion erupted from his mouth, and as if all the stars themselves had fallen out from the sky, he engulfed her in flames of orange and yellow. The wall to where she stood began to melt down, and other structures caught the tail of the flames, going up in smoke as he flapped his leathery wings, making wind to spread the fire. When the hot jets ceased from spurting out from his mouth, his jaw sprang closed tight, a loud  _snap_ resonating _._  His eyes peered down at his good work, only to leave him astounded for the first time in an age.

The girl was still alive. Her clothes and boots had been singed from her body, her skin now covered in black and gray soot, and not a hair on her head had been harmed. She brought her knees up to her chest, covering her nude form from his eyes, not that he bothered with the nakedness of her species. Words were lost on the situation and he knew this trickery hadn't occurred only to baffle him, for she kept silent, her eyes looking at her covered flesh in shame and dejection, hating what she saw. It was a feeling not shared on his part, him growing rather fascinated at this new treasure to so haphazardly stumble into his grasp. It was by chance meeting that he had left his mountain, and had he not; she likely wouldn't have survived another night of the cold, weak as she was.

Hunger aside, his new fixation was on the girl and he acted on compulsion, scooping her up into his mouth as she yelped in fear. He was careful that her flesh wasn't nicked on the edges of his teeth, certain she would bleed before she'd burn. He kept the back of his throat closed as he dove up from Dale like a firework, the girl held snug between his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he warmed her frigid form. Sometimes he'd feel her limbs squirm, and the vibrations of her whimpers could be felt on his tongue, her still holding the fear that he'd swallow her whole. His flight was short to the high entrance of his mountain, and he pushed his way back down inside, gliding between the hindering structures of Erebor until the glistening of his gold was in sight. He eased up on momentum as his body landed gracefully back down on the bed of coins as he lowered his head to spit out the girl. She gasped in surprise, her body half covered in his saliva that had washed off most of the soot. She was wrapped in the cold silver of his treasures, some sticking to the wetness on her body as she rolled down a stack of treasures, coming to a halt as he watched on in dispassion. Her body jackknifed into a seated position, her hands clutching to cover her chest after she brushed away coins from her legs and torso. His massive frame casted a shadow over her, and she braved a look up at him as she crossed her legs up under her chin, hiding in plain sight.

He lowered his head until his left eye was level with her entire being, her reflection casted in his onyx pupil, "Now then, my little paragon of fire, what are you?" He blew a small fountain of fire beneath her, heating the coins to see if she felt the roasting heat. The little pieces glowed, but no steam emerged from her flesh as they both witnessed her phenomenal defect. He taunted her by finishing with a large smoke ring that encircled her as she flinched back, shoulders caving into herself as a visible subservient.

"I am human." She said quietly.

He snarled slightly as he rose above her again, "Dense girl, do not play games with me. I would not have brought you here if you were vapid."

"But I was raised and lived among humans. How could I be anything but?" She cried, arguing against him.

He pushed at the coins beneath her with his tail, causing her to go for another tumble in dispersion through his hoard. He followed after her body, finally halting as she was sprawled out on her stomach, limbs wide in abandon as he trapped her down with his claw, sharp edges digging around her, ensuring she had nowhere to turn as he applied pressure on her torso. Her head turned to the side as she struggled to breathe under the power he was displaying, eyes misting when she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Ignorant creature; you seek death with much enthusiasm."

He was amused by her fragility, her body trying to twist and turn under his claw, "There is no place in this world for me."

"Do not waste your tears on me. I have no sympathy for your plight. Your new home is here, within the walls of my mountain to be guarded as any treasure in this hall. To be my little paragon of fire, until the years would have you waste away into ash. Your worth is not of an ancient treasure like gold or diamond, but your allure will keep you here for my pleasure."

He released his hold, and she skittered in a rush to stand on shaky legs, glaring at him hatefully over her shoulder, "I am no prize for you to keep!" She quipped.

His mood darkened to black, and he let out a shout of laughter without joy, a sound that would strip a forest bare of its leaves. In the dark underground, his scales were blood red like garnets, and his eyes two obsidian orbs, like the scales of Ancalagon the black. The shape of his mouth appeared in a sinister smile as he loomed over her with all of his grandeur, summoning up great heights of majesty while they were ensconced in his riches, "Dear child of flame, you are mine now."


	2. Urn

The lair shook with the sounds of deep slumber, Smaug having left her to her thoughts in dismissal as his heavy lids had drawn closed like curtains. The ridges around his eyes were creased in a frown, furrowed as brows would on a man. Except this was no man, and she did the favour of reminding herself of that as she studied him where he laid. A giant lizard draped in the colour of blood, every groove and edges of his scales a shield, and claws sharpened down to fine tips that she couldn't shake the feeling of them around her body as he had held her down. His domineering over her would continue no doubt, but she didn't have the means to prepare for such an adversary.

She shivered again, her limbs aching even as she persisted to hold them tight to her chest, guarding herself like a soldier would his keep. She had since warmed from being locked in that desolate place, but the exposure was off-putting. What was it about cloth and material that was so reassuring? The need for fabric called to her, sweeter than the song of robins in the spring. Her eyes skirted through gold, silver and copper in abundance. Every metal in Middle-Earth was available in his collection, some whose worth was in valuables, while others were of armor forged by and for the dwarves who once called this place home. Such a title she did not find to befit her circumstance for her reason residing in this place. A tomb or a prison, or perhaps both if her sickness prevailed. It felt unrelenting inside her rib-cage, a biting assault that had not waned even as she had been brought in from the cold.

Her thoughts persisted into a moment's weakness, and her leg slid from her grasp, her foot kicking up a storm of coins that launched down from atop the heap she straddled. Her reaction was one of dread, and she turned her gaze towards the dragon. He made no move or mention of waking up from his rest, and it gave her hope that she could at least rise to find something suited to don on her body. Would there have been a chance for her to escape, he would have kept her in a gilded cage, and so the thought had entered and left her mind before he had even reposed his head down on his plunder.

Her hands went down to her sides, feeling the slippery gold through her fingers as she pushed up slowly. The ground was shaky, and she thought it might give way, throwing her down in a tidal wave of precious metals that led in the path of his massive snout. Her feet adjusted to the gliding of the coins beneath her toes, her foothold coming back to her all at once as she skipped across the masses of his treasure trove. She was quite a sight, naked and free as the day she was born—a particular memory that was absent to her. The sounds of the gold falling sped her heart into a furious race, like horses stamping their hooves through drenched mud.  _Clink Clack Clink Clack,_ with every step she took. Through her line of sight she spotted a stair that led up from the dragon's chamber. It seemed such a distance to cross, but she could no longer sit as one of his jewels, and from the cold comfort his words had left with her, branding her as his possession. Smaug was not to be trifled with, but then neither was she, not when she had nothing to lose. Nary a penny to her name or an article of cloth on her back.

She pulled herself up the height of stone, albeit rather awkwardly as she went with her bare skin brushing up against the marble. Her legs kicked and her torso shimmied until she got the grip to pull herself upwards. The soles of her feet could be heard patting against the steps as she hurried up them, and she slowed just enough to cause silence and cut off all sound as she took one last look back at the slumbering dragon. The staircase led her to a bridge across an expanse, her arrival echoing through the rows of beams and stone archways as she stood in awe of the Kingdom. For such little men, dwarves lived in large underground homes, detailed in everything rich and divine. The King under the mountain and his people had lived in lavish halls, nothing short of opulent that caused her to feel undeserving to walk through the ruins. Great statues of dwarf Kings and warriors brightly made of gold, like sun rays, guarded over the corridors. Smaug couldn't have come this way often as many of the structures were still intact from his large frame never bothering to squeeze its way through the tight spaces. She made herself dizzy as she walked slowly; stopping to spin in circles to absorb everything her eyes could take in. For a moment she forgot she was a prisoner, naked and cast out for a dragon to find.

She had heard tales many times, but it escaped her, the years of how long Smaug had lorded over Erebor. The mind of a dragon was difficult to comprehend, and his desires to keep such treasures only to serve as a bed for his massive frame seemed heinous. The place as a whole smelt of dragon, a pungent scent she was still growing accustomed to, and it made her nose scrunch in dismay. Nothing was particularly horrible about it, but smoke and fire, decay and ruin, was starting to take its toll. There was no hiding from the mark he had left upon this place.

Through the foreign halls she continued to walk, her feet leading her forward to nowhere. Nothing was familiar and she was afraid she was going in circles, every column the same as the last, and she had lost her way back to the treasure chamber. There had been no sounds of the dragon, and she was certain he would make noise upon discovering her absence. What would he do once he found her again? She made no death wish, but the chance was there that he would harm her, unintentionally or otherwise. The skin of her back crawled in ripples and every hair on her body stood from the tremors of terror caused by ill thoughts. She pressed forward with fear in mind, arms wrapping around herself securely as she passed through a destroyed archway up to a high chamber of the mountain. The stair continued in only two directions, up and down, and she began to feel her prison was more of a tower, locking her up far from reach.

Her eyes took on a splendid sight on the wall, giving her pause before she sprinted forward with hands reaching out. So maybe she hadn't found threads to bear, but a tapestry on the wall was as good of clothing to her as it was artwork. There wasn't time to be material, not when there was chance she could catch cold from exposure. She had to desecrate the poor thing by tearing it from the wall, leaving behind tethered strings and fibers, but she felt no shame as she wrapped it around her body three times until it resembled a frock trailing behind her body. The stitching was soft, covering her blanched skin in a cornflower blue while the gold tassels tangled and hung at odd angles where the fabric was bundled around her person. Carefully she tucked in the corners beneath her arms, clenching slightly so the makeshift garment wouldn't flee from her body as she started to walk.

The constricting material required her to take shorter steps, but she felt no rush as her nose followed to a less putrid area, the air not so stagnant and she thought she even felt a breeze. Hope led her on to a large open space, the highest point one could reach in the mountain before they needed to sprout wings. A large hole had been blasted out of the side, and by tilting her head up she could see the purple skies as the sun fell away. There was no way to reach the opening in the mountain, the empty expansion too far to cross with no bridge or stair. The icy air froze through her flesh, straight to her bones as she watched longingly at the horizon. This was the only entrance in and out of the mountain, and only obtainable by Smaug. Judging by the width of the opening, she could determine it was the same distance across as the spread of his wings. Exhausted in defeat, she sat down on the small stone platform that hung leagues away from the aperture in the chamber, entranced by the vision of the sunset. One by one the stars began to blanket across the sky, and the clouds accumulated in thin wisps that veiled over the light. She began to drift, her mind no longer conscious to the threat that came from Smaug, and she shivered into sleep, a dragon's breath away from harm.

* * *

It was hunger that caused him to stir, hours after he had turned away from his treasure in order to sleep away temptation for a meal. It was no use. He would have to leave the mountain again, having been distracted after his last efforts to snatch food the last time. He breathed through his nose, smoke emitting in soft trails from his flared nostrils with his eyes still closed. Listening for a moment, he found no trace of sound in his collection, spurring his lids to snap opened in the dark. The muscles in his tail uncoiled, and he stretched his limbs, coins streaming off of his body like a fountain as he searched for any whisper of his paragon of fire. Fury gripped at him tightly, and he moved around his hoard in boisterous movements, pieces of gold flung about as he thwacked his tail through piles of silver and copper. Had he dreamt her up? Surely not, he could smell her presence and still taste her scent as he licked at a stack of coins she had situated herself upon before he took to rest.

His elongated neck stretched high above through the chamber as his eyes darted about every mound she could have been concealing herself with. The trail was faint, but he picked up on her direction to the large stair. Bitter from hunger and enraged by her impertinence, he bellowed out a great roar that echoed throughout the mountain. She would hear him coming, but she was a fool to think she could hide or escape him. He hadn't yet lost one fragment of his plunder, and he would not part with his newest gem if only because she had a soul. He would confine her to the cage of his claws so she would never again feel the spark of boldness to wander if it came to pass.

He leapt around his stock until he was able to find a piece of floor steady enough to cast himself into the air, gliding through his mountain as he squeezed into a large corridor that led up into the halls. There was no escape this way, and she likely found herself lost in the ruins of Erebor. His chest furthered to burn in anger as his fire built up from within. Was the mind of a human truly this dim? When last he looked upon her, she was frail with sickness, and her journey into the mountain would have drained what little reserves she had left coursing in her veins. She must have been making a play for death as her escape, and he puffed out smoke through his mouth, aggravated at the thought. He would force her body to live, caring little for her misery as he did. He would never give her up.

His senses continued to pick up on her path as he maneuvered his way through his accustomed tunnels. The task was mundane, having been through this way many times in order to leave the mountain. His hulking movements caused strong gusts of wind to filter through the columns until there was room enough for him to shoot straight up in the air. He twisted gracefully between the rows as he pushed upwards, coming close to the ceiling before he slunk around the bend where the night air chilled the walls. He was struck with her scent once more, and he immediately took notice of her figure sitting still on the dais before the gateway out of the Lonely Mountain that he took to out of need. Her eyes were heavy, having woken up from slumber shortly before his coming. She had gone out of her way to find thick material to drape her body in, a tapestry of the dwarves from the halls that he felt no fondness for. Her hair had fallen from place, over her shoulders and down her back in thick, course ropes of curls. The rhythm of her heart reached him from where he stood, and the falls of her chest he could see were shallow from exhaustion. Stupid girl, to climb so high with no chance of escape. What was it all for?

One might find it surprising that a dragon his size could move in muted steps without dropping haste, but it was a skill he had perfected when at the disadvantage of no space to spread his wings. He stalked quietly on all fours, pupils narrowed to two black slits as he sized up his reward. There was not much of a distance to travel, and he no longer wasted efforts on containing the sounds of his presence as he advanced on her suddenly. Her response to seeing him was instant, her feeble legs propelling her to stand as she fought to keep her new attire from falling free of her frame. Her face collapsed into fear, and she pressed her back against the nearest wall as she dwindled from his presence closing in.

"Trying to run, my white lily?" He patronized as his head hovered over her, inhaling her scent up close as his puffs of breath tousled her hair back over her shoulders. She slowly sank down on her knees, trying to avoid the nearness until she buckled down onto her backside, letting out a short gasp as he prodded at her with his muzzle, "There is no escape for you."

"I . . . wasn't." She attempted to explain weakly in her shuddering voice, "Don't you like to look at the stars?"

"LIAR!" He barked before her, prompting her to cover her ears while her eyes closed as she cowered in terror, "You had no way of knowing this was here! No reason for you to seek refuge in the mountain except for attempting to escape. There is no lie you can tell that I will not be able to see." He spat venomously.

Slowly she let go of her shields, her arms moving from her ears to hug at her sides as she opened her misty eyes, "But I was not trying to escape. True I did not know this place was here, and I was lost on how to return to you. I waited because I knew you would find me, one as wise and capable as you, Smaug the astute."

He was dulled by her aim for flattery, her obviously having no guile which made her efforts to deceive all the more transparent. He was however charmed by her mentioning of the stars, whether it was said knowingly or not. He was passionate for all things in the sky, however little he was graced by their sweet glow. His set of sharp teeth drew into a baleful smile as he pulled back just enough for her to see all of his face, "You are a queer little human, I don't recall others like you in the cities and villages I persecuted. None with your hair, or your smell."

He sampled her scent from the air obnoxiously before her so she was graced with the act of him doing so. She lit brightly with humiliation, much to his utter curiosity. What more about herself was she shamed by, and only because those sorrowful lake men instilled the belief in her mind that she was an abomination. Hence forth that would cease in his presence. No treasure of his would hide from its beauty and superiority when compared to all things below the standard of his mountain. His paragon of fire would shine.

"There is something else about you." He continued smoothly, entrancing her with the gaze of his ember coloured orbs as her body relaxed on the marble floor before him in surrender for him to take, "Your hidden talent of fire is interesting to me. I don't suppose there are others like you, or I would have come across them in my time through this land. But is there more to you than that?"

Fire churned in the back of his throat, ready to be expelled in molten heat upon her flesh. He poised his head, ready to spew flame, before she broke free of her trance to hold her arms before her in an act of protection, "Oh please don't breathe fire upon me again, oh Smaug the generous. I grow so cold without apparel, and I've only just warmed from the air of the mountain."

He was less than inclined to listen, wanting to test every gift hidden within her that instant. The one thing that had him halt for a moment was the look in her eyes; such earnest and truthful resolve in frailty, the first she had spoken to him, and it terminated the building fire at once in his thoracic cavity. It didn't prevent the snarl coming to his face as he looked on her with derision however, "My troublesome pearl, you have chosen the most adequate spot of my mountain to feel exposure. Come down at once."

He tried to catch her between his teeth once again, only to have her clear out of the way as his jaw snapped on to nothing but air. He let out an irate growl while she rebuked with a scorned look, adjusting her stance in resistance, "No! I am not your prey to carry around in the stench of your mouth. I would sooner risk the jump than be carted around like some carcass from a flock." She snapped peevishly.

He slammed his two front claws down on the foundation of the platform to where she stood, shaking the ground in an earthquake as her feet stumbled over themselves for footing. He bared his teeth as every spine and spike stood along the length of his neck, his scales rattling like shingles when the wind blew between the layers, and he lowered his head until she was in line with his left eye peering at her with disdain, "You dare insult me!? Do not mistake my desire to have you as my prize as endearment! You are substance, an object of value, not significance. My jewel to do with as I please. This is your home now, you must obey!"

She shook her head defiantly, pale hair thrown about like streamers of ash, "No!"

He lunged for her again, only for her to throw herself off of the pedestal, casting her body into free-fall. His actions were swift, steadfast for any treasure in his hoard to not come to damage, her least of all. She was as frail as she was human, making trauma imminent anytime she was beyond his sight. His entire body swung around, his tail swooping out to catch her at the last moment before she would break upon the ground. Her weight was light, like a snowflake touching his scales as she landed safely in his clutches. A small whimper fell past her lips, and he felt the trickle of something warm coating the end of his tail, leaking from her right arm. Her flesh had caught on the sharp edges of one of the prongs on his rough hide, spilling her blood in a small stream. She pushed herself off his tail and away from him, rolling unceremoniously on the ground as she tried to collect herself. He circled her, his tail trading places with his head in a display of intimidation as he came up to her injured person, thwarted but nevertheless forlorn as she held a hand to her wound, "Let me see your defect." He commanded.

The fighting she had put up against him had vanished as she let her bloody hand fall to show the gash running up along her outer arm. Her precious flesh, damaged by her own insolence! His eyes burned with discontent, the value behind her skin perhaps the most important with it being unsullied by fire. The laceration would scar, and he made a poor substitute for a healer when matched against the delicacy of her race. His instincts drove him to do the one thing he could think of, and he paid little heed as she flinched back while he worked his hot tongue up her arm, cleaning away the blood. The acid and heat provided by his tongue allowed the wound to cauterize as he collected the red substance of her life into his mouth. Fascinating. She did not hold the taste of one who appeared ill with death looming overhead. It was alien to him, and delicious that he had to pull himself away from indulging in any more of her ruby rich liquid.

Her eyes were filled with question as she looked between him and her injury, mouth struggling to form words before he grew fed up and began to shove her with the end of his nose, coercing her to stand, "On your feet."

She stood without opposing him, anxious and jittery like a pup taken away too soon from its mother. In her attempts to appear brave before him, she forced back her hesitance to speak in what he presumed would be an apology, but he was taken aback by what passed from her lips, "Thank you."

No human had ever paid him gratitude before, and he was uncertain how to respond. In her eyes, it must have been a great deed for one to want to assist her, though he had only done so for his own selfish pleasures. In any sort, it was more hospitality she had ever been given, and he thought her a poor judge of such things if she thought him her savior, even if only for a second. Feeling rancorous from her humbled response, he went ahead toying with her at a distance, surrounding her as he pursued in circles, "What do they call you child?"

"I—it's Lirarwen. I don't remember ever it being given to me, but it is the name I am branded with." She replied in meek explanation.

"That will never do. You need a title to serve your role in my collection." He rebuffed sharply, feeling immediate dislike for her common lake name. To him she was soft, delicate and rare, needing a rather tender title to suit her worth. She was of mild grace, white smoke in the wind and an exquisite flower added to his plunder. That decided it for him, "Liliana, the white flower of the mountain, and lily of the valley."

She blinked rapidly at the declaration of her new name, startled into silence as she held her hands together before her, fingers still tinted scarlet from blood, and hair a tangled weave of dark ivory. He would have to set a time for her to properly groom herself, her current condition unbecoming to fulfill her role properly as the pride of his treasure halls, his child of flame. "I think I am unworthy for you to bestow such a title on me."

"It is my demand that you have this title, and you shall have it. Do not disregard anything I give to you, ignorant child." He hissed petulantly, "Now come. You will not leave my sight again."

She tripped back on her heels before he collected her in the grasp of his claws, squeezing enough to ensure she could not struggle out from his hold while in flight. He took off for the mouth of the mountain, deciding on hunting for his next meal while searching out a solitary part of the river for her to bathe in. His great mass was hidden in the shadows of night, swallowed up by the black as he held firmly to his new companion in hand. His gut was roiling in a storm of hunger that had only continued to flourish after consuming the small amount of her blood, the oily feel of it slipping down his throat still very real after he had taken his fill. It was better they were free up in the sky, the stars now blotted out from the dense clouds as he inhaled the frigid air to clear the daze inside his head. Intoxicated by his new possession, he wondered all along if he was destined to find her. She was a danger, poisonous like the rumored curse amidst the gold of his mountain, and he was ready to make certain they would never be parted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have written so far, but a new chapter should be coming up soon.


	3. Silence

The cool from the night air teased at her scalp as it wafted through her hair intrusively. The rest of her body was made warm by Smaug's claw wrapped around her, transferring his appreciated body heat to her as he carried them deep into the night without so much as a reason directed to her. Her arms were feeling tight and achy from the constriction of his grip, and the bottoms of her feet were turning numb from exposure and poor circulation in her legs. She wiggled her toes to keep the blood flowing in them as best she could, while her eyes were brave enough now to be kept opened as she watched the vast land below float past as he powered through the air. Such magnificence she hadn't known existed until that moment, high above the world with no one to reach them.

Turning away with her neck hanging back at an angle, she studied the cords of muscles in the beast's long neck as he inclined his head forward. The span of his wings continued to pull at the air, dragging them onward as he kept his body tucked into a streamline position. She wondered what it was like from his sight, the view of the landscape and the steady horizon from above compared to her position trapped in his grasp, feeling every sharp turn and gust of wind. To allow her to ride on his back would be degrading for one so prideful as him, but she fantasized about the idea of it in her mind regardless, the feel of freedom she would receive with her arms opened wide in surrender astride his back. It wasn't uncommon for a child to idolize dragons, and since she could remember she had wanted one for her very own, until she had grown wiser in later years. Maturity with age had destroyed such aspirations, and the tales discussed in the lodges and cider houses of Lake Town she had eavesdropped on as an adolescent painted a vivid picture of the wroth of Smaug to drive away any residual hope. Death and murder to those of Dale, and the dwarves of Erebor. She shivered for the dead, her prayers the only things left she had to give for the dearly departed, and she reminded herself not to dwindle on such thoughts for too long. One could be driven mad from despair, a valuable lesson early obtained in her life.

The thought came to pass, and never did she believe her path would cross with the dragon. Some hopefuls from Lake Town, mostly the fishermen at the docks with too much time to prattle, would ponder daily about the Lonely Mountain and the beast within. Their little establishment of boardwalks and lodges sat low on the water, and far across the lake, making it difficult to determine any sights in the sky other than rain clouds and bird flocks. She remembered one man in particular, Old Maddox, patch of black oily hair, teeth as yellow as the sun he baked under and a large stomach that hung out of his breeches as he worked the day away sweating through his cotton threads. He hadn't been the most well-to-do man in Lake Town, or the brightest, and he had started up a vapid rumor that Smaug was surely dead in Erebor, blackened bones sitting over the piles of gold just waiting to be taken. The babbling's of an old man still put to work, and most had brushed him off except the few greedy youth in town who thought about the treasure only a lake away from getting their mitts on. Still, none were fool enough to go on an expedition based on nothing but a hope, and when there wasn't any known entrance into the mountain. Liliana felt like she had the last laugh in that situation, having entered the mountain and had been laid upon the splendid jewels in not but her skin. Not that she was ever the individual hungry with avarice for valuables; she'd hardly paid his stock much attention. Still, she wondered what Old Maddox and those greedy boys would say now if they saw her.

Her reminiscing into the past broke as Smaug started to lower towards land, the edges of a sparse wood coming into view under the glow of the moon while he folded his wings back in preparation to touch earth. He let go of her body suddenly just before the ground, and she felt her weight hit down, rolling for a few feet before she hit a patch of turf. Her pains returned to her at once, and she groaned while hiding under the screen of her hair, face swathed in pale blonde. Her knees were bent up towards her body as she lay on her stomach, arms tossed opened on either side as she absorbed the chill of twilight. The ground thudded abruptly and her body bounced as Smaug landed only a dragon's step away from her, sounds rumbling continuously from his chest. With her head facing the other direction, she had not realized he had lowered his neck until she was suddenly nudged at her side, the force rolling her over onto her back from the pressure of his snout. Her muscles and ribs screamed in protest of the action, and all of her breath seemed to leave her momentarily as she choked on getting her wind back. She sat up slowly, giving the dragon a fierce glare as she clutched at the tapestry still adorning her body. Her fingers felt brittle from the action, shaking from the frosty night while her dispassionate face continued to watch Smaug.

"Might you try and be gentler with me next time. I'm not a doll you can throw around." She kept the bite from her tone, wanting to sound as genuine with her request as she could, though it still came across as more of a demand.

"Oh, but you are." Smaug returned scathingly, and to prove his point, his tail swooped from the side of his body, jostling her down to the ground with the tip of it. She cried out in weariness as he then proceeded to stand her back up, only to knock her down once more on to her back. He stood over her, a sliver of pale moonlight shining down the path of his nose as he smiled violently at her, "Don't be timid my Lily, I find your fierceness engaging. A part of the fire within you."

At least he found one thing about her captivating, even if it was only her strange gifts that kept her his prisoner. She fought to push herself up in spite of the fact that his large face hovering just a short distance above her chest. It seemed he was waiting for something, either a cutting response from her or that she would beg for his help to stand. Neither was likely. She was clever enough to not get into a battle of wills with a dragon, him being the likely victor. As for needing his help, it was another thing she would not ask of. Life as an outcast, she was used to being independent, and she had tuned up her strengths enough to only ever have to rely on her skills, never knowing to submit to the help of others.

Smaug took a step back, observing quietly while she brought herself to her feet, refusing to glance his way, afraid of what she might see on his malign face if she did. She crossed her arms over her chest to sustain some heat in her body as she took a look around at the patch of forest they stood by, the bugs now silent as only the wind blew about them, "Why did you bring me here?"

A deep noise thundered out from his body in what she might have mistook for a laugh. Oh, but indeed it was, a rather judgemental and sarcastic chortle that reverberated from his throat, mocking her where she stood. The dry laughter did not last long from the dragon, and all at once his humor appeared to evaporate into immense contempt as he viewed her with his eyes, smoldering like an inferno, "You do not shine with even the dullest of gems in my mountain. I will not have you remain this filthy in my collection, you must be made new by the water."

She was brought out here to bathe? The notion was absurd, but it was obvious Smaug was serious about her maintaining her appearance. Her ears did not pick up on the water nearby and she concluded it would be calm waters he was taking her to. She was hit with a strong urge to flee, the last desire for her being to jump into a freezing river or pond for the sake of pleasing her jailer, "The water will be too cold." She said as she tried to think up other reasons to refuse him.

"Your excuses need working on." He goaded, "I would not bring you here without the intent of ensuring your warmth and survival."

She frowned, no viable option presenting itself for her escape from the situation. Her legs were not suited to outrun a dragon, and even if she could hide and duck between the trees, he could set the forest ablaze, uprooting trees from their place until she was back in his hold. Her shoulders caved forward and she turned away from him, starting in the direction of what she judged to be the water, aware he could follow with a mere two steps and correct her should she make a wrong turn. She was learning quickly that there was scarce room for her to challenge him, him easily besting her in any circumstance. Even her scarred up arm was proof enough that he could give her life as easily as he could smote it from her body. There had been no indication of tears to come from her though, after what seemed a lifetime spent on weeping, she just could not push anymore tears from her eyes.

Her sight refocused as her toes touched the bank of the water, pebbles crunching together beneath her feet as she looked down into the still shallow edge of the Long Lake. She could not make out Lake Town from where they were, never having been on this side of the lake before it seemed the little settlement was only visible at a great height. They were still at the bottom of the Lonely Mountain, its high peak behind them in the distance like a watch tower. She stood nervously under the Mountain's watch, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she looked at the water with reluctance until Smaug's impatient breath at her side caused her to jump in frightened excitement. He blew a small jet of orange fire into the lake, all the water in ten leagues brought to a boil as the surface filled with bubbles.

"Where has your boldness gone to White Flower?" He inquired smoothly, his position unchanging as he stood at her side.

"You expect me to disrobe with you watching?" She asked incredulously and not without a hint of unease.

He snorted, pulling his head back up as his body flopped down along the bank on his side, his long torso creating a wall between her and the path back to the mountain, "Humans and their modesty. Have I not already seen you bare?"

"Well . . ." She fumbled for an excuse, not quite understanding herself why it was suddenly so important she was given privacy in this matter, "What if I fail to groom myself to the best potential because I was unnerved by your staring?" It was a week excuse, but she suspected Smaug had little patience to even want to take her out here for longer than necessary.

"Your use of the word staring, it indicates there is something of worth to gaze upon." He returned mordantly, "Cease with your virtue, and shed your garb before I burn it from your body. It has no value to me, and I would rather you fashion something new to embellish yourself in."

His words were sharper than a trenchant blade, and she lost any sense of humility as she unraveled the bundled fabric from her body. She spared no look back at the dragon, afraid she would lose her nerve at the last moment if she did, and she hastily stuck her foot into the water. Any man would have been boiled to his bones from the degree of heat simmering from the lake, but her flesh only lit up in colourful red and fuchsia, traveling up her legs to the rest of her as she slowly waded out into the deep. She let it swallow her until the water brimmed at neck level, pale hair flowing around her as all of the grime was washed away. The steaming lake protected her from the night, and while it was as comforting as a mothers embrace, she set to work on thoroughly conditioning herself, not wanting to spend another moment exposed in front of the beast.

* * *

Smaug's breathing was steady as he lied on his side, still battling the hunger while he let his new treasure take the opportunity to cleanse her skin. He would not continue to tolerate many nights out of his lair, and he would set aside some time in the mountain to have the water room of Erebor functioning again, if only to give Liliana a pool to bathe in, and fresh water to drink from. He lazily watched the rows of steam ascend from the lake, fading into the bitter cold once it rose too high into the night's air. He had watched curiously, questioning how her skin would fare in test to the water he had brought to a swift boil. It pleased him to witness her flesh remained as unmarred as it had been from his fire. She truly was of the flame, or something as equally unreasonably magnificent.

He rested his head down upon the gravel bank, his eyes observing her every move while she made it habit not to look in his direction. Shyness, a trait held by someone unsure, or very likely unspoiled under her circumstances. She was new into the years of womanhood, and had not been gifted with the chance of suitors following after her because of her oddity. A virgin. He was brought satisfaction by this revelation, now being able to boast that his new treasure was completely untouched by man. He doubted if there was ever a man in Middle-Earth noble enough to court her. Even the most righteous of Knights and Warriors were unwarranted for this girl. No Elven Prince or Lord of Gondor would have her heart, for it belonged in the Mountain with him.

The sloshing of liquid made him snap his eyes back to her, the water breaking as her body sank down into the lake, like a knife stabbing through soft meat. Her white hair blossomed in all directions like petals, the light of the moon dancing off of its sheen like snow. She resurfaced after a moment with her hair now slick and clinging down her back heavy with moisture while the water beaded down her skin. Her hands continued to comb through her locks, squeezing out ash and dirt functionally as her dark eyes remained impassive about the task. He continued to let his eyes memorize her, so he would know her as well as any coin in his accumulation of treasures. Her pert nipples were surfacing just at the edge of water, droplets of water rolling down what breasts she had developed as she stretched and arched the muscles of her back. From below the dark water, the rest of her image was blurred, but he could see her legs kicking every so often at a languid pace. They were well defined from her days spent leaping to and from the boards of Lake Town. She only appeared slightly malnourished, poor from the hard times suffered by man. Her waist branched out into a wide set of healthy hips, and a soft, rounded backside that he knew the ends of her hair could reach when it was unbound.

A rested sigh rumbled out from his chest, and his lids drew half closed, still letting a small slot revealed so he could see if she was brave or fool enough to wander beyond his influence. In the alcoves of his mind, his thoughts began to drift into semblances of dream sequences, all pertaining to Liliana. The faintness of her skin, he could recall its softness between the pads of his claws and the overlay of his tongue when he had first tasted her in his mouth. The chambers of his heart furiously pumped blood through his body and he felt something singing within him; something primal, something man. A trickery caused by her blood he had ingested? Implausible and he breathed a snort at the thought. He had always shared a fondness for woman of any race alike. The fairer sex, so gentle and nurturing, always the faces he would see fleeing in terror to protect their young as he had ransacked village and town. It had made his decision all the easier to keep her, simply for being female, but what was this bizarre attraction? He was the last of his kind, so perhaps loneliness. Never before had he desired companionship from any creature though, and he used his predatory instincts to drive his survival without requiring others. It wasn't loneliness then. So what was this new passion?

The strong feeling persisted to surge through his body, and her scent became all the more prominent as he breathed, nostrils becoming flared as she drove her way unexplainably into his thoughts. His forked tongue, blackened like coal, flicked out from his mouth subconsciously, the gentle breeze containing more of his Lily of the valley, and he swallowed thickly, struggling against the torturous images he saw of her. Skin palest white as she lied in a bed of his coins, lips red like the juice of a berry and eyes blackened with lust. Her stare was to the ceiling of the mountain, and her flesh was flushed from heat, the rosy buds of her breasts erected, rising and falling teasingly with every deep breath she took. It was not until her legs parted and a head of dark hair invaded the imagine with a tongue running up between the juncture of her thighs did he awake from his reverie.

His head snapped up with a strangled growl as he was pulled back into the reality of the night. His eyes immediately looked to the lake, only to find the water still and chilling once more, no beautiful body floating across its surface. Before he was able to let out an enraged roar, he felt a small presence pressed into his side, beneath his arm. He inclined his neck to find Lily situated beside him, the tapestry covering her, this time as a blanket as she held it up to her neck. Her hair was already frizzing and curling into ringlets as she watched him with a furrowed brow of strange wonderment. His breathing eased, and he realized she had sought out his heat to help keep dry and warm. By the shifting of the moons position in the sky, he realized he had fallen into a short slumber, and she had chosen to remain.

"Can you swim?"

He paused for a moment before realizing the strange question was directed at him, falling softly from her mouth. He grumbled, shaking his head back and forth quickly to snap himself back into coherence before looking at her acutely, "Do not waste my time asking foolish questions." He ordered.

She appeared only slightly dejected by his typical response, otherwise hugging the tapestry a little tighter around her as her eyes traveled away from his gaze, "May we go back now?"

He continued to watch her for any signs of deception, knowing she would not be eager to return to the mountain for anything other than warmth and a sense of shelter. However, she hadn't disobeyed him, and she was cleansed properly, her face now visible from the removed layer of dirt, and her hair fluffy if not a little untamed. He supposed the dwarves must have had combs of silver hidden in the stockpile of his treasure—such things he paid little heed to—and he would seek one out to better the condition of her mane. He still required food from a hunt, and now he had a smaller mouth to feed as well, or else she would wither and wilt unattractively like a flower to winter. His legs shifted and he brought his body to a stand while she fell back unexpectedly from his movements. He guffawed at the surprised look on her face, putting aside that convoluted dream as he watched her collect herself respectably, despite the burning of shame in her cheeks.

"Come now Liliana." He pressed, constraining her choice as he watched her drape the fabric back over her body again. She sent a longingly look to his back, a gaze he did not miss, and it was quick to send him into anger. He did not respect her enough to grant the privilege of her to straddle his back as if he was some common horse for her to ride.

Another moment he allowed for her to straighten herself out before he seized her between his claws once more without a word, driving up hard into the air as he took the path back to the Lonely Mountain. He would leave her locked in his treasure chambers while he hunted, curious about her, but more wanting the distance away from her for the time being until his thoughts sorted. His obsession with her was causing a sickness in him, taking him down a road he had never known with any jewel before her. Lily of the valley, so sweet and deadly, filling him with the yearning of murder for any who dared take her away from him. He was nearly tempted to free her at once, let her fall to her demise, or else face the madness that had poisoned that weak-minded Dwarf King of old. He hated the line of Durin, so much that he aspired to not fall prey to the same frailty as them. He would not allow Liliana to be his Arkenstone, and so he tightened his grip on her, undaunted in his decision to never let her fall.

 


	4. Whirling

Lily sat on a small patch of cold stone floor in the treasure chamber, her backside favouring the flat surface over a bed of uneven coins. She had been dismissed into the mountain by Smaug rather abruptly, which stirred unrest in her as she studied the cut up bottoms of her feet. Perhaps she had been wrong, and he had noticed she had attempted to run off while he had fallen into a short sleep at the lake. It was after she had risen out from the lake to notice his lids completely shut while untroubled groans and sighs had wafted out from his lips. She had even gone as far as to test how deep into slumber he had fallen, calling his name and patting his nose with her hand which must have looked ridiculous, her vying for his attention like he was some pet off the floor. When no stirrings or signs of awaking had come from the dragon, she had grabbed the tapestry, wearing it like a cloak around her neck as she took off up the path to the plateaus of the mountain. Her only other escape had been the lake and she was not confident enough in her swimming abilities to get far.

She hadn't run for long before her feet had grown sore and she stopped to think about the irrationality of her decision. Everything was done on an impulse, to cut the tether now and make the break for freedom. How far would this escape last before he would awake and track her scent again? The Long Lake wasn't pure enough to vanquish his senses from finding her, and wherever she would go, a trail of fire and ruin would follow. She knew she would never be quick enough to reach a far enough distance, and there was no place he would not find her. Tripping over herself, she had spun around, sprinting back hastily in the direction of Smaug and the lake before he could find her to be missing. His possessiveness over his treasure was confounding, and she had no doubt he would hurt others to find her if ever she was to be liberated of his mountain.

Her heart thumped and her feet hurt as she found her way back to his large mass, still unmoving in the gravel. She was reassured that he hadn't awoken as she had nestled herself into his side, absorbing his heat while trying to play the part of obedient captive without making so much as a peep. She waited quietly with the skin of her back pressed up against his scales as he continued to hum tranquilly before his eyes snapped opened with a start. He first looked to the lake for her, something overemotional whirling in his eyes before he realized her position. It was unknown to her if dragon's dreamed, or what they would even see if they did. She caught his attention by asking him if he had the capabilities to swim, thinking now in small hope that maybe the lake could have been her way out. He hadn't answered then, and the thought lingered. Smaug had taken on the appearance of an unsettled beast, and they had not spoken again since he had carried her back and left her in the Lonely Mountain.

"Oh drat those thistles!" She cried as she took care to try and repair her swollen soles of her feet. He would smell the fresh blood upon his return, and she had no way to lie to him without his knowing of it.

She had dug around for a while through the piles of expensive metals to find something else to dress herself in that would stay on her shoulders, and she had come up with what she supposed was a white dressing gown for a female dwarf. It was wide and short, ending at her thighs, tied securely around her waist whilst the short sleeves billowed out at her elbows. She was now cutting up pieces of the tapestry with a pilfered golden dagger, for use as makeshift bandages. The knife was more of a decorative piece with an ivory hilt and encrusted rubies along the length of the blade, and it served poor as a weapon with a dulled edge, making her scissor work look rather hackneyed. The tapestry was made frayed along the edges, but the strips she had cut served as good cloth coverings for her feet, and with one bandage tied around her upper arm to hide her fresh scar. The rest of the material she could use as a blanket or at the very least soft bedding if she was to be kept warm by the proximity of the dragon.

Exhaustion was creeping up on her now, and she rested the knife down at her side as she stretched out her legs before her. The events of the day had taken much from her, and she could feel herself fill with hunger for the last thing she had to intake was hard cheese and stale bread, sitting low in her belly. The sickness was still upon her too, she could feel it hadn't diminished or improved any as it continued to sap her vigor. Her skin was turning more ashen still, and was becoming dry and flaking on her shins and forearms like canoe birch. She had caught her reflection in a silver serving dish before given the chance to retract her gaze, and she had found her eyes to have grown increasingly dull and black, now almost no trace of her soft brown irises. Soon Smaug might find the task impossible to make her shine amongst his gems, as he obviously had not taken a good enough look at her in the light. She wasn't even sure if he had seen her at all, what with his odd behavior still unexplainable to her.

She took a lock of her hair in hand, deciding whether or not it would better to braid it away from her face. Smaug was very strict on how she was to be presented that she felt she needed guidelines, or at the very least the dragon himself so she might ask. Her pampering and fretting was put aside as a great sound erupted, and her head turned up high to the ceiling of the mountain as Smaug glided skillfully back down to the ground, the coins leaping in excitement at the return of their keeper. He picked her out immediately amidst the gold, the only pale light in his hoard.

She brought herself to her feet, forcing a brave look even as her legs felt like twigs under the spell of his eyes, deep and soulful like black pitch drums. He crept forward, his movements almost appearing unsure, though his expression always depicted a different picture. Vanity and bravado. Whatever feelings had plagued him before he went on leaving her alone were over now, which set the course for things to continue as they had been. He lowered his head before her, dropping from his mouth what remained of an apple tree. The branches were twisted at odd angles and the leaves, of what little were left clinging by their stems, were singed a deep brown. The fruit remained unharmed if maybe a little crisper. She knelt down tentatively, plucking the vermillion skinned fruit in her palm before her eyes darted back up to Smaug. He appeared pleased, and not in an authoritarian way, this was genuine and it made taking a bite out of the apple easier for her, knowing this wasn't some ploy to lord over her with his power. She chewed carefully, the taste bland but sweet as she swallowed. Fruit was always something heady to her, a nice change from indulging in fish every other night when she could find any in Lake Town.

"Thank you." Her words were soft and grateful as she munched another bite from the fruit. She could see the rest of the broken branches were heavy with apples, and she would gladly partake in another.

"You are frail, and you will need other forms of meal to sustain you, but for now you must wait. I have lost the night to the horizon, and I would rather share in my day conversing with you." Her lips thinned as she contemplated what that meant. It was ridiculous to think Smaug wanted to talk for company, and he would obviously try and learn what he could about her history to puzzle together the mystery of her talents, "I see you have built a nest for yourself."

She looked back over her shoulder at the small pile of fabric along with other scattered things she had fetched for herself from his collection. It was a pathetic excuse for a bed, but she would rather have her own small space so the idea of being a caged bird would not feel as much as a burden. His voice reverberated off the walls deeply, and it made it difficult for her to interpret if he was angered or simply stating an observation, "There was no other way to occupy my time." She excused, clutching the fruit a bit tighter between her hands as if it was her own heart to protect.

He hummed, acknowledging her answer as he spread himself out onto his gold, red scales contrasting beautifully as he reclined his position. His head came down to a full rest, his chin lying on a pile close to her so he could continue to face her for their conversation. Getting over how timid she felt in his presence, she lowered herself to the ground, sitting on the side of her knees as she tried to keep the large garment intact on her body, "I am pleased to see you have changed your attire, though the proportions of a dwarf do not match yours."

Pulling at the loose fabric, she understood what he meant, "I liked the colour."

He huffed out a breath of hot air, amused by her deciding attitude, "Tell me little flower, what are your talents? Something of the arts perhaps, having an affinity for songs and poems."

Oh dear, he was going to find her dreadfully boring! She wasn't a privileged girl, and Lake Town wasn't especially known for its cultured festivals like the Wood Elves they traded with down river. It was a small settlement, everyone knew everyone's name and business, with little for privacy, and most celebrations were spent on feasting and gossiping as denizens became loose-lipped on ales and strong ciders. He was waiting for her answer with a hard look of impatience, and she lowered her hands to her lap with the apple between her palms as she sweated with turmoil, "I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with such recreations as those."

"I thought as much." He said slyly and of course with his intellect he had been setting her up for that answer, "You are not a girl who romanticizes for her future. How did you get on in that miserable place? Have you no guardian."

"Not by blood." True, she couldn't recall ever having parents. She awoke one day as an adolescent, no memory of how she came to be and thus her life had started in Lake Town, "I lived with a family with two sons for a time. They were not my kin, but they fed and clothed me, not out of love but in duty."

She had felt so alone in that house of four. The boys were good to her, treating her as their blood sister. They never were too friendly with her if their parents were nearby however, but during the day when they'd have the run of the town, the three of them would find themselves in different spots of trouble. Gaellyn was older than her by two years, and he was more understanding to her situation, sometimes sneaking her pieces of his meal he did not finish. Yricyn was young, and he hadn't fully understood the tension of the home or why she was treated differently in the family, but it was always his sweet laugh that could bring her to smile. She never had concluded the reasons for why the family took her in, and she was often left with the impression from the adults that she was a stumbled upon presence, taken in as a hopeful fortune that hadn't paid off. Perhaps Smaug would in time come to this same decision. Regardless, she wondered if those few down in Lake Town had stopped to look for her, it now branching into nine sunrises since she had left from Lake Town to make the journey to Dale where she had been captured by Smaug.

"I see now, you love them." His condescending tone made the unintentional smile fade from her lips, "But they did not care for you, or you would not be here now."

"Is there a problem in that?" She snapped peevishly before taking a moment to breathe.

He was riled by her response to him, but she knew he held back his anger, something keen brewing in his eyes to forget her brazenness for a moment, "Interesting. You hold bonds of kinship in high esteem, even when there are none that exist for you. You do not know where you hail from?"

"Before Lake Town, no." She sometimes liked to think she was from a great city far away and somewhere her family was waiting for her return. But those were the dreams of a girl; she had been found along the borders of Mirkwood—Greenwood the Great as it was once called then—washed up from the river before Lake Town. With blunt shell ears, she clearly was no elf-child, and so it was left to man to take her in.

He was ignorant to her dejected tone, or perhaps he was apathetic to such emotions because he did not halt in his insistence of the topic, "You are above those fishmongers and tub traders now my Lily. Your new home is here."

In this cold and desolate place? Even the hottest dragon fire could not melt the ice in her heart for the lack of fondness she felt for his lair. Lonely Mountain indeed. Only those who resided there could feel the isolation from the world, and while that may have suited a dragon, she couldn't help but think she'd perish in those halls. A thought occurred to her, slamming her to a full halt as she considered her captor. Smaug was the last of his kind, and perhaps he was the lonely one. A dragon would never face the truth of that, and it was inconceivable to think he would need a companion for anything. Death, murder, destruction and chaos were the only tales she had known of him, but an ancient and magical beast, there had to be layers beneath those glossy scales. Whether or not she was prepared to discovered what lied within was still to be determined on her part. Overcoming her fear of him would take time, and she was oh so tired, nervous to put forth the effort to see to that. Then again, there was the span between now and her life's end to try, so time was the only luxury she had.

* * *

How aggravating it was to find his sated hunger had not cleared away the dream of Liliana from the recesses of his mind. Devouring a stag whole was usually enough to sway his body back into the motions of sleep, but for the moment he dared not enter slumber, reluctant to have to deal with his queer new obsession. Lily would be put in true danger if he could not impede these new black desires for her. Small and unaware as she was, she would not be able to sense the hunger he was restraining himself back from. It had taken a hold so fast that his unprepared mind had allowed for too much to be seen.

In his old age, he knew of patience and control, and to ease his apprehension, he focused on other tasks, first finding her a small meal of fruit. Her frame was willowy, narrow in many places and the skin growing taunt over the bone. Apples wouldn't put any weight to her frame, but they would sustain her until he caught something heartier. While her age and height were excuse enough for her size, the state of her appearance was something else to fret over. He had not seen by the lake in the pale glow of the moon, but here in his sea of gold, illuminated by bright light she was turning waxen, flesh a dove ash hue like the ruins his fire left behind. Her eyes had darkened to shadows, and he saw the flaking of the skin on her shins and arms. A toxic anger gripped him, imagining that she would pass away into the night against his will and might.

It was breaching into early morning now though, and they had missed their chance at a long slumber. He could see her eyes were heavy as she leaned against a pillar on top of her ridiculous looking roost she had made out of the tapestry. Pieces of his treasure were rested nearby, toppled coins and a decorative dagger that she had clearly used on the tapestry, and for no real other purpose. Such a butter knife wouldn't harm him if it had been her intent, but it was unlikely she would resort to violence; so tender and frail as he had come to discern of her. He felt a twinge of hostility towards her for going about handling his cherished pieces without question, though nothing had been taken from the mountain, and she did not appear to have any air of rapacity about her.

"What is my purpose here?" She asked suddenly, and he witnessed her face twist into despair, a need to know more, "Besides my impossibility of withstanding your fire, what more can I give you?"

"You are young and unwise to the ways of a dragon, dear flower." He remarked candidly, "Gold and treasure is just another necessity I feel I must have, a craving that must be answered for. I do not part with what is mine. Should you ever be so bold as to flee from me, I now know there are others you care for. I would hate to leave my mountain only to torch a settlement of humans, but I will if I have to, as they are so near for me to cause harm. Your place is here, and do not hope otherwise."

The warning was stern, and he felt her quiver in the crushing silence as she receded deeper into herself. He found the girl easy to manipulate, and she had been foolish to inform him of her past so willingly, only for him to have leverage over her, securing her loyalty to the mountain, to him. Not one tear had slipped from her eye, and he admired her tenacity to appear as strong before him.

"There is nowhere else for me to go." She turned her head to the side, sighing as she kicked her legs out before her.

The want to scold her for being so malcontent was present, but his attentions were quickly turned to another matter, and he narrowed his eyes at the temporary shoes she had constructed for herself out of the blue fabric, tied around her arches to ensure they remained in place. It wasn't peculiar for a human to wear coverings on their feet; however he thought he smelt the faint scent of blood from the cloth, "Stand up." He directed.

Her eyes widened a fraction at the request, and he knew in that instant he had caught her in a lie, "Why?"

"Do not question me!" He barked fiercely as he pushed himself up on his haunches, wings unfurling from his back as he displayed his impressive size as an act of power before her, "I wish for you to stand, and do not argue otherwise or I will force you up on those legs."

Slowly she did as he requested, her legs uncurled from her body and she pushed off of the stone floor with her palms flat against the surface. Her eyes were kept down as she completed the act until she was forced to meet his eyes as he pinned her with a stare, "What now, oh Smaug the indomitable?"

A malevolent smile was brought to his thick red lips, curving upwards to expose his teeth. He found her endeavors to placate him unfathomable in that moment, wanting for her to writhe in discomfort as he brought to light what she wished to conceal, "Walk forward my Lily, I wish to see you in the light of my gold."

Her shoulders squared into a tense position and she lifted a wobbly leg, having the sense to not question him again. Her wince was uncontained as she brought her foot down and her limp manifest as she shuffled forward in short steps. Clever darling, he was too quick to assume her allegiance, and it was apparent she had tried to run at the lake.

"You must take better care Liliana. I suppose it was not the rocks that gave you injury?" He growled softly as his lacquered onyx nails clenched tight through stacks of coins, filtering their way between his claws, "SPEAK!"

She jolted in terror as she let the apple core drop from her hands, it rolling away against the ground sad and forgotten, "No." She whispered.

"Pine needles and weeds." He hissed as he inhaled her closely, the power of his breath intake nearly pulling her to him, "Tried to flee back into the woods, but you forget you daft girl, everything of the mountain is my territory! From every stone and leaf, to grass blade and pebble is mine. There was never anywhere for you to run, and I would have found you, smelt you out. If you are so insistent to have your space from me, let me give you your own aerie."

"But I came back!" She broke her silence in order to make her defence. Excuses and justifications, she was speaking little of what he cared to hear.

"Should I bow down to you for that?" He patronized, crimson scales shimmering along with his fury, "Delicate Liliana came back, and because she is afraid, or half wise to run, but also knew better and returned whimpering. A whipped mutt shows that kind of loyalty!" He roared furiously as he lunged for her.

She yelped as he caught her, wrapping a solid grip around her frame, body going limp as he held her tightly in his grasp. His wings flustered his coins into a maelstrom as he carried her up above the treasure chamber, uncaring to her protests now and unyielding in the fit punishment he had for her. Like a fine jewel, she needed to be polished to his liking, refined but obedient. Batting his wings, he floated a great height above his gilded bed, to a series of grand chandeliers aloft, shaped liked lanterns while dangling from the vaulted ceiling by thick chains of iron. They were forged by the dwarves, in finest gold, sturdy and beautiful. Never had he lit them with his fire until that moment, and he did so with brutal purpose as he reared his head back to blow a heavy jet of flame into the underside of the chandelier. He released Lily from his grip, dropping her on the flat surface of the lid of the bowl formed light while the fire burned beneath her for warmth.

"You have nowhere to turn to my little jailbird. From this height the fall would kill you, and your only way down is if I wish it. The fire will keep you warm, and I shall keep you fed. Until I trust you not to desert my realm, this is where you will remain. Enjoy your nest."

She struggled to sit up, white hair tossed around her face mixing with the tears he had finally caused to fall from her lashes. Her lips quivered as she tried to formulate a sentence, another explanation readying from her mouth, "I didn't run away, I—"

"You came back, as I am more than mindful of. You keep your reasons; I care not for the pathetic excuses of a girl. Do not speak of it again." He blew a flash of fire at her feet, burning away the cloth coverings, exposing her swollen and cut up sole's. She said nothing more, face painted in guilt as he abandoned her to her small space above his collection.

He landed with a gruff growl, sinking into the masses of his cool treasures against his belly, eyes burning as he fought to ignore the muted weeping overhead. Had she expected his treatment of her to be tender? His attachment to her was only of a material value, and he would ensure she learned her place. She had betrayed him, and this penance she would pay would establish the boundaries of their relationship. He is King under the mountain, she is his crown. To his agony, he became reminded once more of his dream, body aching as he imagined her naked skin, the soft mounds and rose hues of divine attributes on her body. Bellowing out a frustrated moan, he sunk himself deeper into his coins until his entire mass was hidden, wind puffing out from his snout as he squeezed his eyes shut. Liliana was his jewel, not his mate, and he needn't treat her as his equal. She was the first companion he had known that he had kept for himself, granting her breath in his halls, and he craved to want to trust her, but ages alone made him paranoid and unsociable. Her question of her purpose in his mountain made him consider; what else would he use her for?


	5. Playful

Lily lied close to the edge of the chandelier on her side, having been trapped up there for days, or perhaps weeks now that she had lost count. She was only permitted down when it came to a matter of grooming herself, or when food was to be eaten. It escaped her, the importance that Smaug seemed to hold in them sharing meals together in company. She never spoke during those times, turning indifferent to the dragon and his mountain. She felt a breath away from death, and it soon happened that she had grown accustomed to her roost, better away from Smaug as she waited for the inevitable. Whether he sensed anything or not went on unsaid, but his longing for her was terrifying. She could not see passed his expressive eyes, but he wanted something from her, and her continued apathy was setting him on edge. If she did not eat all he provided for her, he would snap and snarl, threatening her with promises that she would sit in the bowl of the chandelier instead of on its top, surrounding her with the fire. Many of her dreams were made up of ash and flame now, so she had taken to his idle warnings without so much as a shudder.

Her hand dangling over the edge of her prison, haphazardly reaching for the toasty blaze below. The flames licked around her flesh in a tingling sensation, never burning her as she allowed the fire to play between her fingers. Through her peripheral vision, she could make out the great dragon watching her from below. He would feign sleep, but she had caught on quickly that he was often surveying her and her actions with fascination. He never took the chance to speak with her in those private moments, only staring until he would turn away in his slumber, purring serenely.

She pulled her hand away, rolling on to her back until she could no longer see him below. The tears had stopped on the third day, the effort seeming wasteful as they had steamed on the hot surface of the lid as soon as they had fallen from her cheeks. There was little else to occupy her time, and she couldn't fathom the life of a dragon, content to sleep on his plunder with thoughts of nothing else giving him cause for action. The food he brought back was effortless; sometimes a mouthful of fish from the lake fried by his fire, or venison from the woods. She had confessed to him quickly that she detested wild meat, but he wouldn't hear any of it, and so she had been forced to ingest the gamey taste. The protein had failed to add weight to her bones, much to his disdain as he would often nudge her with his muzzle to judge her fat content, growling in displeasure when she was still as frail as the day he had stolen her. She was stretched thin, haggard and unwell as she waited for anything to change her circumstance, or put an end to her torment.

She was nearly asleep with her arms stretched over her head before she felt a large presence rise up beside her. Turning her head while opening her eyes, she found Smaug to be suspended in the air at her left, glowering at her with his usual direful disposition, "Come down Liliana, you need sunlight." He lowered his head closer, waiting for her expectantly.

The request was bizarre, but she no longer refused him of anything, and so she pushed up from her aerie, bare feet taking tentative steps towards him until she stepped down on to the rough hide of his snout, walking along the scales like stairs. She was close to losing her footing, before lying down up the curve of his nose between his eyes, clinging on as he flew out from the treasure chamber at top speed. The rush of the wind upon her face from the flight was exhilarating, and she was able to see the corridors of Erebor pass them by until they came upon a familiar room, the aperture of the mountain. Her skin became bathed in the glow of the late sun as Smaug folded his wings back, driving out through the exit of the mountain. He did not take them far from the height of his tower, coming to a cliff at the side of the Lonely Mountain, large enough for him to land upon, and he did so with such envied grace. Once he was well adjusted on his feet, he craned his neck down and she slid off his snout with a small gasp, and then a breathy chuckle.

"That was amazing!" She cried gleefully with the likeness of a child. She laughed pleasantly, the warm feeling curing her of the constant melancholy as she spun around, finding Smaug watching her with curiosity. She cleared her throat a little in embarrassment, but didn't otherwise fight off the smile that her lips had been without for weeks.

"You find flying to be enjoyable, my little flower?" He asked in his attempt to understand her. He extended his body down on its side, neck up as his eyes kept alert while he guarded her with him. His polished claws grated against the stone in rigid strikes, and she wondered if it was habit because he did not seem to notice his little tic.

"I suppose I do." She agreed in reply to his inquiry, "At least, as much as any girl with her feet stuck upon the ground. Walking everywhere can be tiresome, and I don't care for the smell of horse." She crinkled her nose as she sat up on the ledge, her feet kicking back and forth as her legs swung over the edge. There was no trepidation or thought that she might fall; Smaug would undoubtedly catch her.

He snorted in what she suspected was endorsement to her opinion, "Your fairness and beauty belongs in the sky."

Her movements stopped, as did her mind. Never before had she been called such lovely things, becoming rather adapted to the harsh names she would hear said about her. She brushed at her hair swept over her right shoulder, fingers getting lost in the tresses as she tried to distinguish how she felt about the flattery, or if even she believed it. Maybe if her skin had a smoother textured than that of tree bark at the moment, or if only her hair was a different shade. No, she couldn't be beautiful. She was his treasure so he would believe for anything in his hoard to be aesthetically pleasing. Her shoulders fell forward and she was cascaded back into her somber mood, "That is a kind thing to say, and I am humbled, King under the mountain."

"You do not believe me?" His growl rumbled the ground she sat upon, and she tossed him a sidelong glance to see his eyes had narrowed.

"It isn't that." She shook her head, "I would never doubt your sincerity, but it is not a belief I share myself."

"Because of those insignificant lake men have led you to hide in shame." He slammed his claws against the ground, and she let out a shriek as his tail coiled around her unsuspectingly. He didn't squeeze her tight, though by the strength of his muscles, she realized he could have, crushing her into pieces if he so willed it. She was brought forward before his intimidating stare, irises smoldering like coals rich with embers burning throughout, "Do not shy away from bold thoughts. I have kept you to admire amongst my treasures, and you should know you are mesmerizing, like the jewels of old. I toss away ugly things, and yet you have remained. Tell me why I have kept you."

He wanted her to call herself beautiful? Her mouth dried of saliva, and her throat constricted as she could not bring the words to pass. Her lungs were failing her for an entirely different reason other than being squeezed by a dragon's tail and she thought she might start wheezing. He had his coils wrapped from her feet and up to her waist, arms still free as she rested them before her, palms running along the smooth length of his tail while she struggled to comply with his demand, "But I'm not really—"

"You are Lily." He interrupted her sternly as he squeezed a fraction tighter, "Say you are, and I will let you down."

". . . I'm beautiful."

Instantly the pressure was relieved, and he set her back on her feet with a tame touch she would not have expected to come from him. She stumbled for a moment, wincing as she felt the cuts on her feet stretch and tear. Most of them had healed in her passing time in punishment, but some of the deeper ones had only begun to seal, and now she could feel the light lines of blood under the pads of her feet.

"Your injuries ail you still." Smaug commented, sniffing the scent of fresh blood that had spilled from her into the vicinity, "Let me see." He ordered firmly, but with an underlying of responsibility to inspect one of his treasures.

"I. . ." She was going to speak, but thought otherwise as nothing she could say would dissuade him, and she brought herself down carefully as she stretched her legs out in front of her. Her toes wiggled to combat the numb feeling in her soles as the wetness of her blood smeared along the length of her arches to her heels.

Smaug tasted the brisk metallic scent in the air, his colossal head inclining down as he studied the wounds she had sustained herself. She grew hesitant for a moment as he looked at the glaring afflictions before his tongue darted out and licked up the surface of her soles. It could not be helped, and a mirthful giggle erupted from her at the sensation of his broad forked tongue cleaning away the blood, much as he had done for the gash on her arm. Maybe it was the feel of the sun upon her face that brought about these dizzy emotions of merriment, and she prayed they would stay with her.

"Be well Lily, and do not bring yourself to further harm." He instructed as he ceased his lapping. She watched him as he trailed his gaze over the rest of her flesh, from her legs to her arms, her right still bandaged in the blue strip from the tapestry, "How does your scar fare?"

Instinctively she tugged at the bandaged with her hand, unraveling it free to expose the angry lesion to the fresh air, "It does not hinder me."

He growled in disapproval at the sight of it, "Pity to spoil such a precious thing." He tutted as his neck snaked forward, tongue flicking out from his lips to skim the sensitive flesh of her arm.

He licked her as a dog would its master, and she thought it odd, the act not as affectionate as it might have been in the former situation. Smaug was no exuberant pup, and she clammed up at her unruly thoughts of what his other reason might be. He said he would not devour her as a meal, but a hungry beast could not be deterred from sustenance should he crave it.

"Thank you." She said politely, twisting the bandage nervous between her hands as he drew his mouth back. His breath hit her once again, and the hint of death from his fire mixing with the blood made her stomach roil, but the putrid stench could not be blocked out.

"I would not allow for you to continue bleeding. Lifeblood is to be cherished. It is rare in the sense that it is the one thing that will always be yours. Mindless creatures of this world spill it, tainting the land and sky with its reek."

She supposed when he killed, it was quick because the power of his fire. Ash, urn and silence, leaving behind not a trace of what he had slain; the evidence only indisputable in the ruins of structures he toppled behind him. He spoke with such animosity to all other living things, and everything was beneath him in his superiority, the rest merely stepping stones for him to cross. She toyed with the idea of him and loneliness once more, but did not comment on her fruitless thoughts. His mood was not as black as she had come to know, and she wanted for it to last without sending him back into a fit of rage.

"Am I granted to leave my aerie?" Her tone was trembling with uncertainty, but she wanted to know if her punishment had been served to its fullest degree. Surely he knew by now that she would not flee, the last way out having disappeared quite some time ago.

"If you behave." He remarked thinly, and his agreeable countenance was dashed once more anyway, despite her attempts to play nice.

"Why did you bring me here then?" She continued to ask. She tightened the tie of her gown while shifting her body to look out at the sunset. She'd be a fool to consider his motives were strictly genuine, for the deeds of a dragon hid a darker and more profound purpose. Get tangled in his web, and he'd bleed all over her, but she was no longer in a place to refuse his desires of her. She hoped her cleverness was up to the task, but to deceive Smaug would be an implausible feat, so instead she would have to befriend him.

"A part of my personal task to unravel the mystery of you. I can be certain I have never crossed the likes of you before, and it is highly foreseeable there are no others like you." His eyes flashed with delight at the prospect.

"And does that please you, that there is only one of me?" She asked cheekily.

"It encourages me, yes, to keep you close, and to cherish you. A being of the sun you are, and I can already see your radiance returning to you from basking under it." He crept around her in stalking movements, his head faced to her while his neck tilted down, "I am also privy that your moon cycle has only come to pass since before I found you. You do not ovulate as human females do."

She blushed at his words, but could not deny the truth of what he said. That had been her fist cycle since living with the family, all the more motivation for her to leave as she branched into maidenhood. As it was, she was much older than all of the other girls in town who had gone through their change years before she had. By her account, she should have bled again in the days come and gone, but her anomaly only furthered to rear its ugly head, "Perhaps it is a sign that I cannot bear children."

"Perhaps, but I find it all the more reasonable that it sets you apart from the race of men. Greater species have longer waiting periods between births, and you may have fewer opportunities than those pitiful beings. They breed far too often, and live half as long for it." He replied callously in what also was a compliment to her, seeing as he believed she was a 'greater species', and not to be taken lightly were the praises of Smaug.

"And how long do dragons live for?" She said without thinking, though the innocent question did not seem to cause him any grief.

"A life age of the stars." His gaze shifted to the sky as the clouds were infused in shades of tangerine and apricot, the sun half hidden behind the horizon as the rays of citron colour stretched out over the land like spindly fingers. It was delving into evening, the shadows poking out at every angle and corner of the mountain, the rock fading from gray to dark black without the light. Smaug appeared to be searching for something, under the spell of his own ancient lifespan that her inquiring had provoked, "I have seen stars come and go, their light fading out from the sky until they have vanished, unable to be reclaimed once more or recalled by the hearts of those trapped far from the reaches of their glow. I doubt many others have witnessed such events. Elves maybe, but other things do not care to look at the night sky. They find the moon so cold, yet they allow its light to guard them in sleep." He huffed slightly, and the end of his snout twitched with disgust.

"But I like the moon." She said while her body shook with a shiver from the imposing time shift, "I do not believe it is as cold as everyone says, and I sometimes wish I was the moon. It is so far away, and it protects us, a lighthouse in the fog, so dependable and everlasting."

"You can never be the moon Lily, for you tremble without the sun. Whether you profess to love its silver gleam, it does you no good." He dismissed, having noticed the change from before when he had first brought her to the cliff to now, "I must return you inside, or else risk you to evanesce."

She sighed lethargically, but agreed without words as she stood up from the ground. Surely the trip back into the mountain would be spent with her suspended in his claw, but he bowed his head once more, silently asking her to step on. Her feet were as light as puffs of air as she climbed atop his snout, hardly any weight for him to carry as she balanced herself in place before he shot off. His wings unfolded, clapping hard at the air as he filtered his way through the debris of the mountain, his course a part of him, his large mass turning sharply without knocking against any of the structures. She wondered if the blustering causing her hair to flail about was tickling his muzzle, or if his hide was too tough to feel anything so faint.

The blaring gold was visible below, and he dropped down on the unforgiving bed of metal, claws digging in to steady himself while the jingling of treasures floating down all around them could be heard. Lily slid effortlessly off the end of his nose, landing with an unceremoniously thud on her backside, legs sprawled out around her while half of her mane hung over her face. She blew out a breath, knocking the strands away before growing sheepish under the dragons subduing stare, "I'm not hurt." She felt she had to reassure.

"But you are rather clumsy, even for a human."

She said nothing, sparing herself of the dragon's quick tongue. Moving without causing too much of a disturbance, she quickly righted herself on her wobbling stilts almost as if her weeks at punishment had made her forget the use of her own legs. She was uncertain of her place, if she was to be taken back to her prison or not. The rims of his eyes were training in on her until his black pupils were thin slits, and the muscles in his face pulled into a semblance of a broad grin, "There is something on your mind I think."

She looked down at the ground while shuffling her bare feet in hesitance, "I . . . well, I am so tired and I was wondering where I may sleep."

He was toying with her, and rather cruelly because he knew she would ask, "Where do see yourself sleeping, Lily?"

"Certainly not back up there." She said aloud without thinking. Her eyes widened of their own accord, and she attempted to rectify her mistake, "Not that I didn't deserve that, or am I ungrateful for you having spared me."

"Be silent." He said, his voice had an edge as she halted her rambling, "You may stay at my side, but should you feel inclined to wander, I would counsel you to not follow through with that wish, or else you will be kept under my constant watch from up there." He pointed his head up to the ceiling with devastating resolve.

She would not wander, and they both knew that, but there was no harm in him putting the scare into her. She contemplated which spot would be appropriate to place herself, and decided beside his large head, just under his impressive jaw structure. His spade ended tail wasn't somewhere she wanted to be near, and she curled herself delicately against the side of his face, absentmindedly running her slender fingers up and down the underside of his jaw, the skin soft and loose as she felt every imperfect mark in the pliant layer. A deep and low hum reverberated up and out from his throat as he lied embedded in the treasures beside her. The lids of her eyes soon sealed shut and her ministrations ceased as her hands rested to her lap in contentment. Her vessel prevailed in sickness, but her heart contained within held warmth that spread from the peace he had blessed upon her, and she felt herself start to let go.

Smaug lied still for a long time after, smoke puffing from his nostrils like a chimney as he considered the supple gestures of her hands that had impeded his mind from sleep, and he thought about the silky traces her tips had left on the smooth patch of his jaw. He preferred her presence here at his side than above on the dwarf chandelier. He had hardly been brought to sleep those past weeks, unable to bury his doubts while keeping watch should she take a turn unconsciously and fall from her roost. He would have been able to catch her before such a plummet, but the nearness was something he had been shamefully craving, and now she was at his side once more. He inhaled her scent as she slept, Lily fogging his mind as she took over all of his senses, leaving him vulnerable as she leaked into his system. The spring water from the mountain made her hair softer, and he had hoped the same for her skin, but she was still flaky, flesh gray as deaths' breath and her eyes were his clock. He feared her veins were becoming bloodless as they coursed through her body, thick blue cords delivering dust. Through the heat of his body, he had felt her cold hands before she had fallen away into her dreams, deft in their lifeless movements. His Lily was dying, and there was nothing he could do.

As do all things happen, sleep eventually caught up with him as well, and his three sets of eyelids closed as he murmured growls into the still air of his chamber. Lily always came to him while he slept; thoughts of her in silence where they would not speak to each other. No sounds were ever made, and he would simply be observing her as if he was standing before her in the settling of his hoard. She could walk amongst the coins, and they would not clink together as they fell beneath her majestic feet. Every shift of her body was a dance, the quiet caressing her in a wordless song as she was covered in an unrelenting shroud. Her outline was always cast in hazy gold, evidence that she was nothing more than an apparition of his thoughts as she stood in a gown of deep vermillion and violet trim. She felt so alive, and he was desperate to reach out and take her in every way he desired; slowly, violently and reverently until they were both driven mad. Her smile always slayed his carnal thoughts through with an illusion sword, and she would throw her head back, laughing aloud, a sound that did not reach his ears.

His dream wasn't the same that night. He could hear everything in his plunder, the coins breaking away into a river as she shot up, clutching a hand to the center of her chest as she ran away from him. He followed, eyes wide opened, his form slithering through metals as he chased her trail to the makeshift nest on the empty clearing of floor she had feathered for herself. She had taken to her knees, eyes darker pitch than a starless night sky as she looked to him, pleading in moans of fear and pain as she rocked herself back and forth. Below the hand on her chest, he could see a fiery glow of that of an ember sparking in her chest. She looked horrid, pieces of black and gray falling away from her, of what was left of her skin. All of his ancient knowledge was laid to waste as he watched her cry out while her body went up in fire, becoming engulfed entirely by the flames. They were smothered quickly as he made a rush through his treasure to save her, but his claws came down onto nothing but quelled embers, and as he lifted them back, the floor was covered in a dark pile of ash, the little sparks slowly going out. He let out a roar that broke stone and shattered diamond, head swaying back and forth dementedly in his anguish as he cleared his throat of fire, the beams of the ceiling turning ebony as they absorbed his spewing inferno. He hastily tried to sweep up the ashes with his tail, his mind a storm driven of duty and care as he tried to keep her essence whole. He locked her away in a large silver urn from his collection, a high honor he bestowed to her, the lid sealed shut while he wrapped his body around the large jar to be kept under his aegis.

He could not shake himself awake from the vision, trapped in the nothingness that caused his black heart to beat out of pattern. The moon had failed him. Its beautiful glow had surrendered his hope, giving him only his hate and despair. The blaze in his chest was fueled by corruption, a possessiveness that perhaps had been responsible for this all, and events that had yet to pass that were beyond his sight. He held his Lily in shelter, defending her and the mountain that had become the tomb he had built for her unbeknownst to him. When his lids fused shut, he accessed the thoughts of his mind that had scattered into fragments, floating in abandon as he tried to piece together which was real, and which was the dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will clear up the confusing ending, I promise!


	6. Dancing

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

Smaug snorted out through his nose, still half in slumber as a small sound awoke him. It resembled knocking, a tiny thing hitting against metal in a repetitive pattern. He refused to open his sore eyelids, the edges dry and cracked from residual water caught in the few faint lashes he had. Tears; he scoffed at the notion. He had been so certain it was a dream, but he had woken twice into the night, both times eagerly searching for his Lily at his side until he would take notice of the urn tucked under his chin. He would sniff its lid, his rust red scales reflecting back at him in the silver while his large black eyes filled with moisture, enough to flood a small peasants dwelling. All that remained of her was preserved in the jar, him keeping a tight closed seal on the lid so she might not blow away under his nose. He had moaned in despair until exhaustion had taken him in the early hours of morning, once more falling to slumber while he had no more dreams.

His mind was toying with him, a wicked game that he could not seem to advance himself further in. It was not clear that what he had seen of Lily was reality until he'd comprehended he had heard everything. Her cries, his roar and the rest was his treasure cascading around them in a shower of cold silver. When she wasn't by his side in the hoard, and the urn had taken her place, he was brought to that same level of fury all over again. Lily had died, and it was impossible to fathom, all the more because his heart refused to believe it. The black stone continued to beat in the center of his chest, tightly squeezed by the links of chain she had built around it in the weeks she was his jewel. He had meant to keep her forever; his Lily of the Valley, so consumed by her illness, he had refused to accept it had always been too late.

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

There it was again! He grumbled, eyes snapping opened to search for the persisting sound. The thumping was close to him as he raises his long neck up from sleep. Silently he sat, eyes narrowed in suspicion as they darted around the stacks of his treasure. There was no movement that he could see, and he let out a threatening growl to try and coerce the intruder out from hiding, "Where are you?" He hissed silkily as his great mass rose up, displaying his magnificence while he searched the air for any whisper or sign of this new foe.

_Tap! BANG! Tap!_

The pounding was beneath him, in-between his front claws and he turned his head down to the offending urn, its shape shuffling around in the gold on its side, shifting with little jerks like a twitching animal. He bumped the side of his muzzle against the jar, taking loud inhales while the silver urn continued to shake like it was breathing. In his aggression, he shoved at the jar until it rolled away from him, down the slope of plunder and on to the hard stone floor where Lily's nest laid untouched. It crashed into the adjacent marble column, the metal vibrating like a cymbal while the covering popped clean off. He moved in a panic, diving forward as the ashes spilt out, only to halt his charging body at the last moment when something else fell out from the entrapment of the urn. A ball of flailing limbs, covered in dusty ash came tumbling on to the floor, finally landing sprawled out on their back as clear brown eyes looked up in surprise at the ceiling. It was Lily, sure as alive and breathing as he had seen her the night before. He prayed his eyes were not deceiving him, her chest moving up and down as she panted for breath, hair as dirty as the rest of her skin while her pink tongue darted out to lick her dried lips. He was breathing heavily as he stood over her, his shadow covering the ground she was stretched over while he tried to establish where he had been wrong in presuming her demise; what had mislead him?

Their eyes locked as she turned her head to the side, and her ash covered face broke out into a scowl, "Why would you lock me in there?!" She shouted angrily, "I had behaved!"

All at once his senses returned to him, enraged by her tone, but also appreciating that she had no memory of what had transpired, "Young Lily, you don't remember, do you?" His voice was thick and heavy, like the sap of trees, viscous with emotions.

"Remember what? That I apparently warranted a night's sleep in a sweltering tin?!" She pushed herself up, his sight catching the faint pinkness of her nipples as her chest thrust forward from the action. It wasn't long before she noticed her own bareness, eyes flying to her naked front before her arms flew around herself in attempt to cover the exposed areas. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant hue, the colour reminding him of other delicate features of her body that he favoured. She shifted slightly, crossing her legs while turning her neck up to look at him, "Why do I have no clothes again?"

"I expect they were burned away, like the rest of you. You were engulfed by flames, becoming one with the fire. I watched as you faded to ash, nothing from my part to be done to prevent it. You died last night Liliana, and I was sure your body had departed along with your spirit, set free by fire."

"I . . . what do you mean?" He could sense the fear and wonder in her voice, so soft and small as she resigned to listen to his words, his recite the only way to learn the truth.

"I swept up your ashes; you deserved a burial, the honor to rest amongst wealth and be preserved in it. It was you Liliana, the crown jewel of my collection, and I would keep you in death as I would in life." She appeared to shrink under the power of his words, the earnest present in how he said them, "But now you must be cleansed."

He lowered his head until his snout was before her, a sign of the bond they had built and the care he felt for her, bestowing her with the honor to ride along as his equal. She stood up carefully, her strength renewed as she held her weight under the vigor of her defined muscles that had been rather listless before now. She turned away from her shyness, climbing up to the top of his head while leaving trails of ashes at every groove she reached for until she was seated for the lift to the water room of Erebor. Once she was settled, he felt her lean forward until he could make out her face as his eyes went crossed to view what she was doing, "I suspect there is more to this story that you aren't telling me."

He felt outrage at her accusation, however true it might have been, "I will tell you in due time, and I always keep to my word, but for now I wish to tend to you, and test your well-being while you remain in solid form."

Terrified there would be a repeat of last night, he leapt off from the ground without hesitation, the breeze on his face a wonderful indicator to make him aware that this was no dream. He pulled together all of his vast knowledge that he had obtained over a life age across the lands, surmising what race Lily was kin to. Fire and ash, not entirely unlike himself, though she had no fascination with gold, and her eyes held no avarice for valuables. Her bone structure was delicate, lithe with a long gait and her feet were narrow with long, hollow bones under the skin, much like her hands, made for reaching. The air of death was no longer hanging over her, and she smelt rather like myrrh and sunlight. A being of the sky, he still held firm to that belief. She must have been suffering from a form of memory lapse to cause her to forget, and he was curious over the tale of how those lake people had happened across her at the borders of the wood. She had died and was reborn anew in a span of the passing of one moon, returned by the dawn and the rising sun. The details continued to surface, and he thought back to their evening visit while the sunset had fallen on the horizon. Much as the sun was certain to return when it was expected, so was Lily. Resurrection. His eyes gleamed with terrible understanding, and as her value only increased for his benefit, he also felt his lust bloom from a deeper cavern of his mind.

The journey to the water room was short, his bulk smashing through the small stone gate entrance as his claws took to the uneven ground. The water room was no luxurious bathhouse, dwarves having no affinity for fine things such as cleanliness. They were workers, and such was the purpose of the room. The valves turned in a complex series for the mountain spring water to flow out in channels, providing water for the forge, in the mines for smelting and any other working room where steam and hot liquid was required. All of Erebor was geared towards the mining efforts of the dwarves, a craft he held in the highest esteem, it being the sole reason behind the existence of his hoard, to which he was eternally grateful to those dwarves, dying so that he may claim it. Not a day had gone by in which he had stopped to feel remorse or guilt for his murder and thievery. He hated those nasty little creatures. Hairy old men who were too greedy in their lifestyle to see his charging; they deserved to lose their Kingdom for being so blind. Whatever strain of illness that plagued the line of Durin had yet to take hold of his vastly superior mind. Dragons stole by nature, and no Arkenstone had been enough to make him think his ruling was divine. He was already a creature of magnificence, and it was principle that he be surrounded by such beauty, much like his Lily. She was more dangerous than any diamond, but he paid no heed to that, for now content to let things lie as they had been.

Lily treated her naked body with care, wading into the stone pool that he had frequently been bringing her to for bathing during her punishment. He merely had to rest half of his head in the water with her to keep away the chill for her frail skin. While he preferred to show off his fire, he was just as content to take the opportunity to be near Liliana as she bathed in the close reach of his sight. It was routine, and she was no longer bothered by his company, on the contrary, he understood her fear was rationalized by her thought that he wished to ingest her. While it was taste of her he craved, it was that of a different nature, one she likely had no inclination of knowing.

The depth of the water turned murky while his eyes and nose were kept lurking just above the surface for him to breathe. He was never one to become parched, but he allowed a small amount of the milky pool water to slip through his lips for a taste, causing his eyes to light with amazement. Not sweet like had been expecting, but spicy. Lily's ashes were much like the aftertaste in his mouth once he had blown fire.

Her body poked up through the top of the pool, and he was greeted with a most favourable sight. While covered in decay he had not been able to properly depict the changes in her reformed body, but cleansed of the impurities she was exuberant. No longer was she defaced by illness, her skin smooth and radiant with an ethereal glow, not even a faint trace of the scar on her right arm. The lavender tones in her hair were more prominent, and always was he brought down in weakness at seeing her virgin body so lush and exposed, begging to be ravished.

She sat down against the cold marble floor, bringing her knees up to her chest while squeezing her hair free of water. Her brown eyes looked to him expectantly for answers as her small form shivered vulnerably from the cold. He quickly searched the area of the room to see most of the walls were bare save for the front entrance of the smashed doors. A scarlet tapestry was clinging loosely to the wall by a silver hook, and he gladly grabbed the fabric between his teeth, tearing it down from its peg to blanket Lily in. She was studying him carefully as he lumbered over with the velveteen cloth in his jaws, hovering above her before he released the tapestry over her. A giggle emerged from beneath the fabric as she poked her head back out, carefully tucking it under her arms while her face glowed mirthfully, "Thank you."

"If you wish to talk, you need to be warm." And covered, or he would continue to be tempted by her pert body. Guttural sounds were threatening to fall from his lips, and his facial features pulled into a wince as he fought back the unyielding want. Lily was still waiting for him to speak, and that was enough of a distraction for the time being, "What more do you remember about last night"

She frowned with concentration as she tried to place her thoughts into one cohesive flow, "The sunset; my eyes were burning as I watched it disappear against the skyline, and the moon took its place. We talked about the moon, did we not?"

"Yes my Lily. You and your aspirations to belong amongst the sky." He sat back on his haunch's regarding her with enthrallment, "You do not recall anything else?"

"I remembering falling asleep, and . . . a searing warmth spreading through me until there was nothing, only numbness and I was left drifting, like in a dream." Her voice faded into the air of the room, her eyes dancing with fire.

He grumbled deeply, not remembering it quite as serene as she had eloquently stated, but just as easily he was spellbound by her way to weave words so gorgeously. There had only been a deep seed of anger and heart wrenching fear that she had been lost to him. Not idly did he rid himself of any treasure, the thought of it seeming inane after the efforts he put forth to obtain it. Perhaps it explained his hasty actions to conserve her ashes in urn.

As he scrutinized her with his jaded eyes, he could see there was a change to her, diminutive, but he could feel it around her, floating and transferring to within his body, "I know what you are Liliana."

Her face grew with elation as she scrambled on to her knees, clutching the edge of the tapestry to her chest as she reached for him with her stare, "How do you know?"

"The voice of incredulity from you insults me. Do not mock my intelligence, foolish girl. It was not difficult once I acquired the appropriate details." He flashed his elongated fangs in a twisted smile while she sank back on the floor remembering her place, though just this once he wasn't fishing for petty praises and he would have her stand proud to hear this revelation. He nudged at the side of her knees until she took the hint to stand, the red garment trailing at her feet, giving the impression that she was decorated in a cloth of roses while her pale hair stood in contrast to it as it curled down her shoulders. Perfection hidden in abnormal details.

"You see my Lily, there are certain oddities about you that I admire, and it is more than your value as a revered gem. There is your connection with the sun, and time. You withstand the breath of my fire, yet you also died from flames. Not dead however; resurrection then. You are the symbol of purity, a virgin who rarely bleed's. Even the hues of your hair are finer than amethyst's. A royal sign of an avian. The Purple One."

"These things you say, I do not understand." Her voice was soft as she shook her head back and forth in refusal, "What do they mean?"

"You belong in the sky my Phoenix, but something has caused you to hide the beast within."

He waited for her response, keenly aware that she was frozen to her spot, feet rooted to the ground while her lips flapped opened and closed. She certainly was a child locked in innocence, and he felt she had much to learn of the world again. Her feet shuffled beneath the garment on her body as she sway a little, the words finally grasping and clinging tight in her mind like a crow to a tree branch, "Phoenix?" She appeared unconvinced as she uttered the word.

"Yes, blessed with unnatural long life, and reborn of ashes. I suspect you are much older than you appear. Your race was thought to have passed out of knowledge and time, slaughtered out of existences for your plumage, and caged for your tears. Conjurers were convinced they could bottle your long life and bless it on to man, but that was ages ago before now. I had never thought to find one of you again, yet here you are my Lily, the last of her kind."

He thought she might collapse on to the ground abruptly, so he steadied her with his muzzle, and he was not surprised when her hands clasped on to his scales, grappling for support, "I'm not quite sure I understand. Why don't I look like a bird, I am certainly no overgrown pigeon!?"

He huffed a deep chuckle at her ignorance, "A Phoenix Liliana, you are not an overgrown pigeon. The beauty of your kind is envied by all others, and I know within you lies the spirit of fire. You skin changed, reasonable enough why men took you into their home without apprehension. Whether or not they knew of your importance remains unclear, but I must prod you for answers of how you were found at that embankment by the river."

"But I don't remember that." She said, her voice wavering in an attempt to sound brave, "I was just . . . suddenly a part of their family. I have even aged the same as a human female."

"Subconsciously your mind has allowed yourself to transform according to the setting you were placed in, but your moon cycle gives the truth. It was only chance that I found you and took you in. Should you have suffered through a burning day amongst those lake men, they would have harmed you." In the ways of comforting a distressed girl, he was rather inept. He had no such patience for trifling matters, but when he felt Lily's sorrow, the chains around his black heart tightened a little more, and he wished to take away her woes. He blew a warm breath of air around her, warming her through the tapestry, and she clung to him a little stronger.

"You said they would cage my kind for tears. To what purpose would that be for?"

"Your tears can heal. Physical wounds and common poisons, not a stopper for death, but those who live frail and short lives will search high and low for the ways of immortality." He instructed her austerely.

A murmur of fulfillment rumbled from his chest as she began to lazily stroke the cusp of his nose, the gloom melting away from her body as she took care to his words. Certain was he that his body was giving off a heady scent of attraction, the mating instinct in him driven mad by her loving gestures as he was slowly brought down to his belly as she continued to pamper him with her caresses.

"You have seen others of my kin in your life." She broke the muted silence while she continued to stand at the brunt of his snout with her fingers dragging trails up and down his tough hide. Through his reverie, he could make out that her words had not been posed as a question, but he couldn't immediately answer her as he allowed his mind to fall further away in lust, his restraint wearing thin with her standing so close in contact with him.

"Long ago I had seen the markings of the Phoenix." He replied in a rasping, gravelly voice that she paid no mind too, so lost in her chastity, "I will help you discover that part of yourself again."

She hummed, the warmth of her body leaving his snout as she danced her fingers along his jaw line, the garment following after as it dragged behind her while she studied the harsh contours of his face beneath her palms. She came to a stop and stood beside his left eye, her reflection staring back at her through his pupil like a floor length mirror as she gazed at him intently, "Close your eyes." She orderly softly, and he could see her own hesitance as his eyes were reduced to slits in suspicion.

"Whatever for, my Phoenix?" He inquired pointedly.

"I am curious about something." Curiosity was a dangerous thing, something he did not put blind faith in. However, there was little harm Lily could bring to him, and her request was so earnest that he would not refuse after she had tenderly gifted him with her smooth touches. His lids folded shut as he listened to her bare feet approach on the hard floor. Her little puffs of breath tickled the thin skin of his lids, and her hand shook as she reached forward to feel along the crack where his lids fused shut. She brushed through the short, dark lashes in languid motions, her fingers finding the residual residue of large tears he had let escape in his agony, "You cried for me when I was gone, because you did not immediately call to the fact of what I was."

"What do you hope to gain from this discovery?" He bit out, his tone detached of emotion as he was slighted and untrusting of her motives.

"My sweet dragon. There is goodness in you, even if it is only your love for all things golden and precious." She was far more clever than he had first thought when under the assumption she was but a lowly human with valuable defects. A Phoenix could feel where others could not, and she was the very symbol of resurrection of hope, forcing her to see further into him than others would dare allow. Such proclamations of being thought of as sweet or wholesome set him apart from his previous tranquility, but what shattered his trance completely was when he felt a pair of soft lips placed against the corner of his eye.

His lids snapped opened, and he lifted his body instantly from the ground, breaking their connection while she stumbled back wide eyed and afraid once more. He was breathing furiously through his nostrils as the ridges flared, vision turning red as the whole of the water room looked tainted in blood. He waved his head back and forth, the movements of his legs dizzy as he fought to stand. His wings unfurled from his back, flapping about wildly while blowing dust and rock into the air. He was spinning about in a crazed fit, Lily having backed away to avoid being accidentally swept by his bulky tail. The insides of his chest were burning, as if his fire had ricocheted back through him, down his throat and into his chest cavity. He shot up from the floor, stopping to hover a moment in the air before dashing out through the caving in doors. The carved beams and wide corridors of Erebor passed him by as he made for the aperture of the Lonely Mountain, mind focusing solely on escape.

His eyes could hardly make out where he was going, and he realized he was leaving Lily behind without an explanation, but if he had stayed a moment longer, he could not have guaranteed her safety. It felt like he was being torn apart slowly by each limb and wing of his body, and he hardly felt the sun on his scales as he burst forth from the mountain. The breeze surrounded him in the early light of day, his wings struggling to hold him up as he powered forward and away from his lair. His head started to clear, but the thunder in his chest hadn't ceased, and he felt a searing pain in his muscles, like they were being torn asunder. He started losing altitude quickly, his massive body falling from the sky with broad limbs flailing about. His wings continued to beat for air until the only thing reaching upwards toward the clouds was a pair of tanned, fleshy arms. The wind was cold and biting on his exposed skin and when the torment ended in his body, he felt himself start to turn unconscious, his transformed frame falling through leaves and thick boughs as twigs and needles spilt his blood, shredding up his flesh. He continued to fall through the debris until he came to a rapid halt, hitting the ground of a dark wood as his head cracked against a stone, and all went silent.


	7. About You

Smaug woke with a groan, the last thing his mind could recall was the fall, and how black the sky had looked as he was buried away under a thin canopy of trees. He had fled from the mountain, never believing there would be reason enough to drive him away from his plunder, until the fear of harming Lily had been too much for him to have control over. She evoked such strong senses of longing with her scent, her touches, what she was . . .and her kiss. Unexplainable things that continued to grow stranger. Where was his Lily now?

His body twisted beneath the layers of sheets, before he realized the oddity of that thought. He opened his eyes in horror to find he was in a human bed, and his body ridiculously reduced in size. The scratchy material was thrown back and he stared in mortification at what he had been lessened to. His skin was soft and mushy, very easily damaged as evident by the cuts and bruising that riddled his limbs. There was a distinct hue to his flesh, golden on most of his front, from neck and chest, down to the tops of his feet. The back of his arms were much darker however, and if he had to guess, he'd say most of his backside would be covered in the darker tone of red like his scales had been. He had hair in the most unusual places, and he felt around his skin with his two hands, mortified by his findings. So exposed and vulnerable, it was no wonder they felt to cover themselves constantly, with things hanging about, and nerves sensitive. By some form of magic or trickery, he had been transformed into a human, and he had the wisdom to know Lily was the cause. For all of his knowledge accumulated over the ages, never before had he skin changed into a lesser form, while he was confident the effects were reversible, he knew not of how to go about reverting back.

His senses as a man were lessened, though considerably stronger than those born of this age. The smell of cut wood was all around him, and he looked through the dark of the room, picking out the details of where he had been situated. The sleigh bed was crafted of sturdy oak, as were the surrounding wardrobe and shelves. He could smell the dryness of the pages of books, and of fire burning somewhere else in the abode, likely the wick of a candle. There were others near, a thought which disgusted him, and he quickly put together his location as he caught sight out of the thin frosted glass window. Lake Town. He had to leave at once! His pride had surely suffered enough, and would not endure the humiliation of being tended to under the roof of a tub trader any longer. The night had come and Lily would be trapped up in his peak without food or his protection, thoughts aloof, likely thinking he had abandoned her. She was in such a frail state of mind before his abrupt parting, and he fretted for her emotional condition if he did not return.

He swung his limbs around on the feathered mattresses, his weight dipping into it as he tried to steady himself on the edge. Perhaps his movements had been a bit overzealous, and unadjusted to two tall legs, he crashed unceremoniously onto the floorboards, sheets and cedar green quilt coming with him as he landed with a dull ' _thud!'_  He cursed his weakened form, this straight body proving useless, while his steely fingers clawed for anything to right himself into a more respectable position. As he shifted, he heard there was a clatter down the hallway, followed by the opening and closing of a door as footsteps started barreling down his direction. He held the sheet around himself, leaning his body up against the bed just before the door to his room burst opened. A skinny youth poked his head in, his face gaunt while strings of inky black hair hung out from his nightcap. Their eyes connected, Smaug narrowing his from his place on the floor, daring him to come forward.

"I see you're awake then. What you doing on the floor?" He had an ineloquent way of speaking, his speech spitting out from his thin lips as he shuffled a little more of his scrawny body through the door. His dark brown cloth was thick and full of holes from fingers constantly plucking at loose threads, while the coverings on his feet were kept in fair condition. He held an iron lantern in one hand, illuminating the corners of the room as he lingered about at the doorjamb, perhaps in fear of thinking him as a stranger, cautious as humans were known to be. There wasn't anything for this young lad to look forward to from what Smaug could scrutinize, only more years of ugliness no doubt when he would grow into a man. A usurper who might have had a sharper mind, landing himself in a spiffy position which indicated to Smaug that he was in a noble house, "Not much for talking, are you?"

"I wish to leave." Smaug barked in irritation.

The boy jumped in fright, surprised no doubt by the soft deepness of his voice. He scuffed his foot against the wooden floor bashfully, dark eyes darting to anywhere but him. "Can't let you leave yet sir, the Master wishes to speak with you in the morning. I can bring you some clothes if you'd like, supposing it wouldn't put the Master out too much. Can't go walking around the town in nothing but your skin after all, it's late into the season." The boy snorted a bit at his own words, as if something terribly funny had been uttered there.

He left before Smaug could reply, and he realized these humans were unaware of who or what he was. A blessing for now, as they would surely murder him in this pathetic excuse for a body if they discovered otherwise. He pushed himself back onto the edge of the bed, feeling silly and somewhat degraded to be on the floor like some dirty brat. The floorboards groaned with the boys return, and he tentatively stepped further into the room, lantern in one hands with a bundle of garments in the other. He carefully placed them on the table, tapping them to indicate they were there for his use. Smaug could see the detailing in the stitching, and inferred that he had been gifted with better cloth than the one's his deliverer donned. On purpose to gain his trust perhaps? No matter, a wasted effort on their part, for he thought of only his dislike of these people.

The youth was hovering again, waiting in feigned shyness for something as he fiddled with the light, but Smaug saw through the ruse, knowing this rat sniffed for information where he could. With that thought in mind, he felt no qualms at all to poke fun at the weasel, "What do they call you slave?" Smaug inquired rudely, making no move from the security of his sheet.

"I'm errand boy to the Master of Lake Town, here of my own free will." He replied with a small frown of indignation, but little to no strength in his voice. He wasn't one to fight his own battles; hiding behind the robe of this 'Master' Smaug had been hearing about, "I'm Alfrid Lickspittle."

"An unimpressive title." Said Smaug dismissively, "I suspect your job is fetching food for your Master, tending to his wishes. In return he rewards you for the information you bring back to him from talk of the town that you eavesdrop on."

He at least had the humility to blush from the accusation, his ears turning pink half hidden under the nightcap, "I have a network of people around the town, supporters of the Master. He just won another election I'll have you know."

"Pardon me if I'm not one for politics." This would be the point in the conversation where he would start to blow smoke rings through his snout at the rat just for being dull company.

"Talk of politics won't be around much, now that you're here." Alfrid remarked, scratching at his upper lip where faint speckles of dark hair were taking root in his pubescent stage of becoming a man, "You're talk of the town now, ever since you were brought back here to Esgaroth. Most women are trying to figure out if you're some Elvish half-breed from the woods. Up close you don't look like no elf though, but I don't think they'll mind that."

"I am not in the market of searching for a wife." He spat out, sickened by the lot of these meager fish people taking such a quick interest in him. His body only continued to stir with thoughts of Lily, his reactions more potent in this form as he felt his blood boil to the surface of his skin until he thought his veins might shatter and leak. His vision had gone hazy for a moment, losing focus of the fact that the rat was still in the room with him.

"Are you some sort of vagabond then? There was nothing on you when they brought you back, and that goes for clothing too." Alfrid again indicated to the lent pile of garments.

Smaug snarled in impatience for the most lousy of guest to be strung with, "Are these questions not better suited to be asked by your Master?"

If Smaug didn't know any better, he would have mistaken the incredulous look on Alfrid's face for displeasure at being told off, "Right, I suppose I'll leave you be then. Might there be a name you go by stranger? In this town, everyone knows everybody." He gave a duplicitous smirk, halting at the door, and not likely to take a step further without an answer.

"As a man of good business, I will trade you my name for a piece of information." Smaug challenged.

Alfrid's uneven eyebrows rose up on his forehead to hide under his cap, only to be brought back down in resignation to the task, "I supposed I might have one answer or another for you."

Someone as slippery as him, he was likely to know a great deal of many things, "The gossip of this town is not unknown to me, and I am curious about a girl who was found washed up on the bank of the Celduin."

Smaug judged the movements of Alfrid's face, taking note of the vague motion around his mouth while his eyes widened in disbelief, "Lirarwen? I'm afraid you're out of luck if you're looking for her. She's been gone from her home for weeks now, I heard last spotted going up the Long Lake for her death." He shrugged without care, "How did you come across hearing about her, only rumors ever spread about her here were how ugly and sick she was. Burden on her family; only ones who care now are Gaellyn and Yricyn."

"The extent of my hearing goes far; as I am sure you can understand that." Smaug forced a smile, even as he felt his black wrath churning in his gut. He brushed his hostility to the side for a moment, forcing himself to give answer that would placate the errand boy, "I was merely curious."

"You still owe me that name." Alfrid reminded, not budging from his spot until due payment was made, as was part of the extortionist in him.

"I am Caladrieng." He allowed the lie to leave his lips, falling into the belief of his temporary identity.

The boy seemed disappointed by that, "Certainly sounds Elvish." Alfrid muttered as he went out of the room, the door tucking itself into place quietly behind him.

Smaug waited until the footsteps ceased before he felt his rage take over. Gaellyn and Yricyn; male names Lily had failed to mention, both of whom were still missing his Phoenix. They couldn't have her, and they never would. She was his to keep, a treasure and a companion, the only one in Middle-Earth he would want to share in his existence with. The strong bonding feeling in him returned, a savage thirst to take, and claim, and never let go. He was stuck on the ground with no wings, yearning to be with Lily, or for her to be with him. He moaned, rolling back on to the bed, his chest expanding with breath as his very being felt in a blaze. His tongue remembered the taste of her skin, a memory of flesh he could recall to, and endlessly he was tortured by her beautiful form when he would close his eyes. What would it feel like to break her maidenhood in this form? So unwholesome were his thoughts, but he refused to apologize for inexorable feelings of lust. She would fit so perfectly beneath him, writhing and mewing out cries that would always sound as a pleasant song to his ears, and only for him. It was these emotions that kept him shackled to the earth, encumbered by this form, thwarting his abilities to shift back. His arousal was prominent, his loins heating until he was stone, adamant towards the goal of mating with his fragile Liliana. It would be so easy to bring her to ruin, and build her back up to his echelon, making her forget about these people, and that she was ever caught tangled in the web of their lives. He reached down, grasping at himself with his large palm, stroking in smooth, subdued motions that he imagined was her hand. His rubs were gentle, like he knew hers to be, the memory left etched in him after the last time he was sanctified by her tame touches. He whispered her name many times that night, body quivering in delicious tremors without shame as he called for his lover to be.

* * *

Lily sighed, unable to find sleep as she watched the night sky with her head rested on her knees brought to her chest. Smaug had left at dawn and he hadn't returned since her mistake in the water room. That sort of gesture must have been unwelcome by his kind, and she would make sure not to do it again when he returned . . . if he returned. Obviously he would come back to his hoard, that wasn't the doubt, but she was bedeviled with fear that something terrible had happened to him, keeping him from his return. What if others had seen him, or worse as punishment for her misdeeds, he decided to pay a visit to Lake Town? No one was more foolhardy than her. To tell a dragon of your loved ones, he would use that as leverage over her, harm them in punishment for her disrespect. She was more baffled than she had ever known, because at first she could have sworn he was besotted with the attention she gave him with her hand gestures. The chaste kiss had crossed a barrier she hadn't known existed, and she would apologize for it if he would grace her with the opportunity to do so. Like a bee to a hive, he would return, but her impatience was growing.

After his tirade, she hadn't wasted time sulking in the water room, instead returning back to the treasure hall. It had been a long journey, as she had kept tripping over the extended length of the tapestry. Her first order of business when she reached the gold was to use the dagger from before to do a little more alterations to the fabric. She pinned two of the ends over her left shoulder with a ruby encrusted broach from his collection, the alizarin frock clinging to her body now more like an elegant gown, despite the uneven edges from her cutting. She likely could have spent more time picking through his palatial piles for other garb of the dwarves, but she was no pickpocket willing to comment larceny against a dragon, especially with the shaky ground she once again found herself on with Smaug. In a peculiar way, she also favoured the tapestry because it resembled his colour, and he had bestowed her with it in an act of rare compassion.

The rest of her day she spent as a wayward wandered, memorizing the halls in excruciating detail, touching ever grain and rock of Erebor so she might know the corridors as well as their former masters. All of her walking had lead her back up to the high pedestal in the tallest reach of the mountain where she waited, and then continued to wait until she grew with exhaustion for all of the waiting. There was nothing else for her to eat in the mountain, and she could discern that it was unusual behavior for Smaug to be away this long. She kept recalling to his words, the beast within her having been trapped, and she longed to set the dormant bird in her free. A Phoenix, it was so difficult to fathom the power and importance that rested in her. If she could somehow summon up her strength, she might be able to leave the mountain to find him, now certain from her cataloging that this truly was her only escape. It was a cloudless night, all of the stars were shining, and the moon was summoning her. She stood up on her feet, sparked with sudden determination to make this dream her reality. The long drop from over the edge was daunting, but letting go was the hardest part, or so she tried to convince herself of that fact. Would a running start help, or should she just leap off wither her arms spread out in the air? She tried to find the Phoenix in her for guidance, no longer wanting to be oppressed by her fears.

An eruption started in her chest, not one of pain, but it did manage to knock her back on her feet with disbelief, sending her down on her bottom as she gasped at the river of fire flowing through her veins. She became enveloped in white light, as magnificent as the incandescence of the sun. She was blinded by the radiance coming from her own person, her heart beating rapidly in her chest while she tried to catch her breath. Her bones began to shift beneath her skin, joints popping while her muscles contorted back. She was numb to the pain, receding into the depths of her mind until she thought she would drift away. When she came to, she was of her mind, but the body that was sprawled out on the stone was unlike anything she had ever bear witness to. Her limbs were long and elegant, covered in beautiful plumage of violet and crimson. The scales of her legs were a deep gold and her talons a soft rose colour, the ends sharp for her to tear into enemies as she attacked. Her wings unfolded around her, a wide span that was equal to the height of a man lengthwise on his side. The feathers were tough, cutting like blades in the air as she beat them a few times, testing their strength and durability. She felt mighty, a crest of feathers embellishing her head like a crown while her yellowed ringed eyes took a look around at her surroundings in crisp detail. In her excitement, a piercing cry broke forth from her beak, slicing through the mountain in echoes as her song was released on to the land.

The sky was calling her, and she hopped forward on her two legs, not forgetting to grab the tapestry in her black beak that had been shed from her body. She would need clothes if she was to revert back to her human body and she hoped that would not give her hassle, as she had yet to fully understand the complexities of her transformation. Her path was before her and the sky endless as she held her wings up in a 'V' before leaping from the height of her perch. Instinct took over and she spread her wings out wide, catching the wind between her feathers as she took off through the opening of the mountain. The feeling of flight was not foreign to her, even as it should have been, and she felt herself ponder over the question of her lifespan. That had not been her first burning day to endure through, but the question of her age was beyond her skill to presume.

Her sight touched everything, from each individual glass blade to every groove and marking in the bark of trees. She twirled in the air, the shine of the moon casting off of the angles of her body as the long feathers of her tail swept behind her like the train of a gown, her hues embodying fire. After having her fun, she straightened her course, gliding lazily as she searched for any remnant or path of Smaug. A dragon of his size could not hide easily, not even the high cliffs and mountains around the Long Lake could contain him, and she could not see reason for him going past the borders into the wood. Lake Town remained untouched as she swooped overhead of the matchwood structures. All of the buildings remained intact on the lake, stilts buried deep into the bed of the water as the lights were being snuffed out for sleep in the little row houses and lodges. She became paralyzed with panic, Smaug's trail going cold since his departure. Utilizing what skills she was blessed with, she banked away from the town, the woods now the only realistic option left, even as her heart pulled tightly as she traveled further and further from the place she knew as home.

"  _. . . Lily,"_ A tender voice was in the air, wanting for her.

Her body failed her for a moment, losing height in her flight pattern as she heard her name being called out in desire. The voice hadn't been uttered aloud, even as she was sure it had sounded beside her ear, it had come from inside her head. She faltered, senses on alert as she pressed forward over the Celduin.

" _My sweet Liliana. . ."_

Only one referred to her as that name,  _"Smaug. . ?"_

She had called back in her mind, before losing concentration when her body started to change all on its own will. The connection broke before she could locate him, and like a falling star cruising over the wood, she was cocooned in starlight once more until it was her human body thrown into free-fall. In her hands she desperately clasped on to the fabric she had brought with her, using it as her shield as she landed under a black sky into the center of Greenwood. The large boughs acted as hands, bringing her down gently, easing her fall to the ground. She was mostly unharmed except for the large gash along her calf, courtesy of a jagged rocked she had skimmed before taking to a pile of leaves. Her eyes brimmed with tears from the hurt of the wound, and half losing her mind to the forest and the pain, she collected the crystal blue droplets on her fingertips, letting them run down the laceration of her leg. She watched on in amazement, and in terror of herself as the skin sewed itself together in an act that defied all knowledge and truth, the last trickles of blood staining her flesh and coating the forest floor while the laceration vanished. Her body fell back in exhaustion, before swiftly turning on her side through the crunchy leaves as she thought she might be sick. Her body dry heaved, empty from the last hours of ingesting nothing into her stomach.

Time passed and she couldn't see in the dark, her frame wracked with shivers as she brought the tapestry over herself. A cold sweat broke out over her surface, laying in endless wait for Smaug, who now it seemed would never come. Perhaps he had already returned to the mountain, filled with hate for her, discovering her not there, and thinking she had left him. His wroth would be terrible, as she knew that to be true in her heart. Surely he had heard her reach out for him? He had felt so close, his voice so soft that she nearly had mistaken him for a stranger. Her thoughts would not cease, and she could only see him, whether her eyes were opened or closed, each vision the same as the trees were so dense and packed into each other, she could not make out light through its thick interior. Something was approaching her, but she could not make out eye or foot of the beast.  _Crunch munch crunch munch,_ the leaves continued to break under each footfall, and she sat up with a whimper, pulling her garment with her as the noise closed in on her right. Her head shifted back and forth trying to pinpoint the intruder, but she was only granted the chance to inhale before something brushed at the waves of hair by her ear, and she felt a sharp point prodding at her temple.

"Do not move or utter a sound." The voice was soft and cool, a flinty manner only held by Elves. She turned her head slowly to gaze at the male, his fair blonde hair visible in the shadows as were his azure blue eyes that stared at her without remorse. The crafted bow in his hand was pulled taunt, holding a precision that would not fail him at this close of range. More footsteps surrounded them, their presence swinging from the branches of trees and off the path as they merged together around the leader of their troop. Even as she could not make out their faces, she knew they were there in the darkness, a conscious feeling that seeped into her heart. She turned back to the fair Elf before her as he regarded her condition, not fazed was he by her disarray or undressed form as he indicated impatiently with his head for her to stand, "You have disturbed the peace of our wood, and now you must answer to my Lord and King Thranduil."

She swallowed thickly, familiar of the name in her days dawdling through Lake Town. While the townsfolk were on good trade relations with the Elves, very few had kind words to spare about the Elven King of the wood. His borders were as dark and uninviting as the King himself, for he cared not for what went on in the world outside of his realm, and now she had earned herself a place amongst his caverns, to be put up against him in his lordly court. Keeping to the pride that she knew she was entitled to have, she wasted no time in slipping back into her garment, fastening the jeweled broach at her shoulder while she stood unyielding to the stares of the Elves. The disorder of her hair and the glow of her skin were frighteningly alluring attributes, and the blood she left behind bonded her with the wild of the wood as it sunk in deep to the earth, the trees drunk as the roots tasted her. The Elf replaced his arrow back in with the rest of his quiver, grabbing her by her arms he bound her wrists together behind her back with a thin strap of sage fabric. Hope had faded for her now, and she looked her last upon Smaug and the mountain, uttering a farewell in the darkness as she was led away by the Elf and his joining company. Her human ears could not hear it, but somewhere in Lake Town a voice was calling out for her. Once was lust had now turned to sorrow.

 


	8. What's Left of You

The Master of Lake Town wasn't quite living up to the image of what Smaug had expected. Noble men of title should have looked fairer, and . . .thinner. He was fat, overly so that his orange silk shirt holding his belly in looked like the sun when it climbed over the horizon. He shuddered to think of the other folds of fat hidden beneath the red velvet coat, the buttons being stretched to their limits before they would pop off, and the seams stretching to tear. His facial expression was rosy as he placed his bearded chin in his hands, many of his round sausage fingers decorated in rings of silver that Smaug had the keen eye to praise quietly. His straw coloured hair was long and wavy to his shoulders, along with his matching moustache that was thin and curled up like cat whiskers. Smaug sat at his long table in the formal dining hall of the house, the room dusty except for the spot where the head of the home sat, and by the looks of him, quite often did he partake in meals. Indeed, it was possible he never missed one, and oft ate seconds without guilt while his people starved. All sorts of rumbles and gurgles were coming forth from his protruding gut, but he said not a word as he studied Smaug, whom he had already been informed by Alfrid, was called Caladrieng.

"Well." He exclaimed, suddenly throwing his hands up in the air jovially, "What brings you to these parts, my good sir?"

"I'm afraid my business is my own, and I would rather it stay that way." Smaug responded tersely as he adjusted himself in the wooden seat. Honestly, the furniture of these people was unbearable for his backside to handle, he would much rather lay in his gold. He had made his way down the stairs after some trouble, though had gone at his own discretion when the hour was still dark. The thought had occurred that he should have left by now, but he had no way of knowing how to go about leaving, nor did he want to be out sharing in the space of the lake people. His mountain was always visible from their vantage point, by he had no way of reaching there, even if he was to cross the lake, there was no other entrance for man that he hadn't already sealed off.

"Nonsense, if it is assistance you need, I would be more than glad to extend my hand in what way you need." The Master insisted. It would seem from Alfrid's ramblings and the indications of the Master, that the whole of Esgaroth thought him a wealthy traveler solely based on his favourable appearance. Of course they were willing to assist if they thought he could bring them prosperity. No longer was this trade post a center of wealth, not since Dale had been destroyed by him. Their only partners lied in the Greenwood, down the Celduin and it was unlikely the Elves were helping them in the ways of financial success, "Perhaps you need more clothing, or a boat and crew. I can provide you with bread and water, or meat if it is more to your liking."

Smaug sent his hand up in a gesture to silence the Master, his continued attempts to appear accommodating had the dragon grinding his human molars back and forth in annoyance. He couldn't be granted the peace to think for even a moment in this house, and the sounds from the town as day broke outside were thunderous to his ears. He was left vexed over Lily; certain he had felt her close last night while alone in the private room. His sexual nature was brought to the forefront of his mind while in this body, and the endless longing had perhaps driven him mad. He had heard her though, abiding to his beliefs that she had called out his name like the so many times he had done the same of hers. His mind could only think of one way that was possible, but he could not know for sure if she had shifted to her true form, or if even she could recall to doing so. The instinct never went away, just as he was sure nothing could make him forget to be a dragon, there could not be anything in existence to drive the Phoenix away from Liliana. In his eyes she was such a tender girl still, and he wanted to bring her back to her true self, afraid he would be disappointed to find she did not need him like he craved to be. Perhaps it was because he felt he needed her in so many ways that his heart had started to rely on just knowing she was breathing.

"Alfrid tells me you questioned him about a girl from our town." The Master spoke suddenly, as if reading his mind; Lily was now the topic of their conversation, "Lirarwen I think she was called. I say was, because she left some time ago, spotted by the fishermen, periling the Long Lake for some reason or another. She was an ill girl, baffling the healers to no end, why, they tried salves and draughts alike to cure her. Nothing could fix her appearance of course; unfortunate looking child." The Master tut-tutted.

His fingers were clenched tightly beneath the table, white knuckled and nails cutting into his palm as he channeled all of his anger into his hands to keep from lashing out where he had no power. It would not do any good for him if he were to attack only for the sake of his Liliana's pride. She did not need the applause of peasants and fishmongers, already beautiful in his eyes, and was he not the grander judge? "Then perhaps you need better healers Lake Master, or the other likely possibility was there was no ailment to be found."

The Master choked on his roll for having been spoken to so frankly. He sputtered out crumbs, covering the large bow tie fastened around his thick neck, and the waistcoat he had on beneath. Using a pristine white cloth serviette, he dusted away the flaky morsels until he had conducted himself in a better manner, "Nonsense! You would not speak these things if you had laid eyes on the girl. She was an ill fit for our town, and folks are glad to be rid of her. Not even her family had batted an eye, except for perhaps her brothers."

The mention of her  _'brothers'_  gave him cause to frown deeply, and he combed a hand back through his chestnut hair, the soft locks unfamiliar to his palms. Was Lily's hair soft like this? He had hardly determined that with the tough pads of his claws, but human fingers could discern much more, though their sensory nerves were weak because of it. It was asinine, but currently he could not stop the idea that he needed to know Lily's hair; what it felt like, the smell and how much of the long locks could coil to fit in his hands. Curse this covetous need to mate, its voice sounding so strong to his ears. He needed air to clear his head and he stood up abruptly from the table, pushing the chair back on the rug until it came close to tipping over from his hurry. The Master eyed him with reserved disdain, snapping his fingers in the air while Alfrid appeared out of nowhere to right the chair, "I do not ask your pardon Master. I wish to leave, this conversation has run its course, and it will only further to waste our time. I am not a man to linger in ineffective talk."

"Nor am I, but while just a moment before, we found ourselves prattling about Lirarwen, I wish to know how you know of her. It's curious."

Smaug frowned, finding his human face ineffectual to convey emotions as strongly as he could when as his true self. There was no malice to be found in this weak race, only of things petty did they bear, "Why is it curious?"

"Because no one knows of her." The Master said vaguely, "Lirarwen was odd because she was an orphan brought into the fabric of our humble little community, taken in by generous hearts. Now you are here, a stranger from nowhere who has inquired about this orphan. Forgive me if I am not being so subtle with this accusation, but you Caladrieng, seem like in ill-fit. It gives me reason to think you somehow know her, and are seeking her out to the last known location she was rumored to be. Was it Elves that sent you our way?"

"Do you mistake every foreign creature to be Elvish, or only the ones you wish to discard?" His tone fell blunt as he trained his eyes on the Master, iris's still the colour of forest fire as he set his glare on him.

The Master blinked rapidly, stunned and unable to speak for a moment as he flapped his mouth like a fish out of water. Smaug could feel Alfrid's eyes on him from across the room, observing carefully, but saying nothing, his fear palpable, "My apologies, but as Master of this town, I am charged with protecting the people, and strangers are often looked upon with mistrust, you especially by the way you came to us."

He doubted the sincerity of the Master's proclamation to want to protect the town, a more reasonable evaluation of his character suggested he remained in the comforts of his lavish home feasting, but then Smaug cared little for the affairs of these people anyways, so the sloth of their leader was their problem to deal with, "By all means Lake Master, protect your people. I shall not remain here long once I have plotted out my course."

"Then we will fix you with a pack and rations for you to be on your way later." The Master agreed, struggling for a moment in his chair to stand. The arms appeared to be hugging on to his hips, the fit snug for his size as he tried to squeeze himself forth from the affronting piece of furniture. He uttered bludgeoning curses under his breath as Alfrid came to his aid again, pulling at the legs of the chair until he was liberated from the polished oak. His height was impressive, of giant proportions for a man, and it seemed a miracle the seat had not broken all this time from constantly holding up his weight. Smaug figured there must have been iron cores fused within, the only explanation for this otherwise absurd man. He wiped a clammy palm down his mouth, before striding over and holding out that same paw for Smaug to shake as sign of goodwill.

He did not want to shake this man's hand, the idea coming too close to forming a bond with a human of weak substance, but it was possible he would not be leaving this house if he refused. He clasped his nimble hand with the larger one of the Master, and even threw up a false smile to convey the look of gratitude, "Many thanks to you."

"Do enjoy the sights of our town while you are here, and perhaps you might find more about your missing girl from her family. They live by the cider house at the docks; you should be able to find them by asking around." The Master told him, giving him his hand back which now felt warm and damp from sweat, and he would have liked to wipe it away on his trousers if it would not have come across as rude. He had been around long enough to understand the interactions of humans, their minds so easy to manipulate, it was all about the game of deceit.

"I will consider it."

He turned away on his heel, strength in his walk as he started for the door. Alfrid was still skulking in the corners of the dining hall by the velvet curtains of the large window, waiting until he passed before scuttling over to his Master. It didn't take a scholar to know he was their focal point of discussion, and Smaug picked up on a few choice words they used to describe him that made him want to torch them to ash on the ornate rug in the foyer. Odd, callous, and an elf lover. Blasphemy! He was none of those things, least of all the latter. Perhaps callous wasn't so far off the mark, as he had been called worse things, but an elf lover? He would just as soon give away his own treasure as to go make humble with elves. Their bones served to clean his teeth, and to no further extent did he associates with the wood wanderers.

He descended the steps of the Master's home, finding himself in the centre of the town where all activity halted, heads snapping towards him with wonder and suspicion. So many humans with eyes on him, and they reached him at new levels he had not been exposed to in the past until he was, dare he say, unnerved. If one of them so much as suspected what he was, it would be a very quick death, one he would not wish to compromise for. His legs started to move for him, driving him onward, careful not to let them see his edginess as he kept his hands to his sides. If they so much as saw one thing on him that wasn't in their favour, he could very well be discovered. His unique skin patterns and colouring's were hidden beneath the layers of clothing, as well as any cuts and bruising still mending from his fall. The sun was reflecting off of the surface of his polished leather boots, dark trousers tucked within, and the thin cotton tunic beneath his thick coat of animal hide was brushing against his skin in a calming effect. He realized he was better dressed than much of the populace of the town from the Master having presented him with finer garb, under the impression he was a great lord of man. It fed his pride to be seen in the best, and the stares pouring from the fairer sex were of admiration and lust, neither of which he held in return for any one of them.

All at once the skeptical looks seemed to fade, the true markings of a rich traveler was all they saw, and soon many returned to their work, save for the occasional female or curious child. He did not stop to converse with any of them, his efforts better spent on listening, seeking out which he wished to know as he adapted to his situation. Subconsciously he made his way in the direction of the docks, the smell of fish more foul the further he traveled. Indeed, it seemed while even in his chaos he was determined to know everything about his mysterious Phoenix, and a short visit to those she called family was unavoidable. The mist of the lake had crowded the surface of the boardwalk the closer he came to the docks, his legs being swallowed up to his knees by a shrouding grey mist that matched the colour of the sky in the late season. He watched the passing signs of the buildings, looking for one for a cider house, while instead it only was more lodges and homes he passed. A child was laughing ahead of him, from around the corner where he could not see and he let himself be led by the sound.

" _. . . Smaug . . ."_

A cry of anguish escaped him when his head became flooded with Lily's voice. The surprised cries around him were blocked out when he abruptly dropped to his knees, and all he could see was white light. All of the walls in his head were caving in, unprepared for one reaching out to him, and he covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the screaming of the forced connection. He could feel his Lily, sense her close, but not in his mountain. The smell of fallen leaves, dew and grass hit him hard until he was knocked back, physically collapsing until he was sprawled out on the boardwalk in Lake Town. His body may have still been present, but his mind was with Liliana, her brown eyes clouded in fear as she was led away by lean figures, bound and chained in a dense wood, but her beauty deadly as she walked in discord. Whether or not she was aware to reaching out for him was uncertain, but he knew he had to fight, had to find her and claim her back from those thieving elves.

The cockle of his heart was burning from the fettered chains she had crafted around it, and the connection started to dwindle as she let go of him once again, tossing him back to his own limbs that were relinquished on the cold planks of Lake Town. Spots formed in his field of vision, and too tired to struggle, he let the darkness take him. His last sights were of a shadow crossing over his body, a figure kneeling down while a tiny hand then slapped at his sharp cheekbone to coerce him into staying awake. His mind refused to obey, and he stumbled into unconsciousness as a sharp voice yelled for mother to take all of his pain away.

* * *

Lily thought she was going to faint when her legs suddenly buckled while walking across a small stone bridge. Her eyes turned up in her head, and she fell back, the elf leading her moving swiftly as he caught her in arms. She could not see or hear anything around her, as if robbed of the present when she suddenly found herself on a familiar boardwalk by her home in Esgaroth. There was a man before her, wailing wounded as if he could attest to what she felt. She knew not of who he was, and there was a fair difference in their age, though she felt no shame in admitting to his beauty. The loveliness of the contours of his face was pronounced by sharp features, even while his brow was furrowed in agony. He had taken to his knees, dressed in new threads judging from the smoothness of his coat, to the pressed trousers he had tucked into boots that were absent of mud and wear. His hair was dark as night, hanging over his face and casting shadows over his eyes, clenched shut tightly. Her body could not move towards him, as if stuck in one spot, standing over him through his torment without the ability to extent her hand. The pain won him over, and his body stopped its tremors as he fell on to his back. From somewhere, there were people running towards him, and she felt herself be dragged away from him until the sounds were distant, getting lost in the fading connection.

" _. . . Lily . . ."_

Her eyes knocked around her head a few times before they snapped opened. To her astonishment, she was no longer under the black sky of the forest, instead looking up at a cavern roof of onyx stone. The room was damp and the air stagnant as she focused on the grainy details of the ceiling. Her back was cold, and she found she had been laid out on a table of stone, the red tapestry now laying over her as a blanket with the brooch from her shoulder missing. Her eyes darted around the room before she pushed herself up on her elbows, feeling at her bare shoulder with her palm in confusion.

"Looking for this?" A sleek voice broke the quiet of the room, and she hadn't even been aware of his presence the first time her eyes had done a sweep of her surroundings. He was at the left of the slab she was laid over, palm holding the fragile brooch pin gently forward, his thumb caressing over the bright ruby centre. The colour of his fabrics blended in to the subterranean background of the area, his robes a moss green mottled with flakes of silver. The points of his horned crown were sharp, much like his stare and bright mind as he surveyed her without so much as glancing at her. He was stern of face however fair it was, and his stance was completely straight like the edge of a sword, though he would make the excuse to bend in what way he needed to deliver a fatal blow. While in the presence of this King, she knew to tread lightly, "A rather odd jewel to be found on one such as you. I find myself curious. I should be led by reason to believe you are a thief, but I find myself lacking the trust to let that conclusion lie."

She swallowed thickly, forgetting how to breathe when his eyes unexpectedly found hers. The pale shade of his hair somewhat resembled hers, though his hung in straight chains of spun silver, and would likely slip through fingers like water as compared to her tangled ringlets. No mark was visible on his skin, as if his flesh was constructed of porcelain, and his fingers were well balanced as he placed the brooch down carefully beside her on the table, "Would you like it back? I confess such brightly coloured stones have no value in my halls. This trinket would hold more favour in a dwarf court, which is where it originated, did it not?"

"Why am I here?" She asked, ignoring the accusation in his question.

"I think you know the answer to that." The material dragged on the ground around him as he walked in slow, predatory circles around her, many thoughts held silent in that terrifyingly brilliant mind. Her hands fisted at the fabric as she clutched it to herself protectively, mistrusting of Thranduil even when she was powerless to prevent his will, "How does a young human of meager fortune fall into my midst? My heart tells me it is for the very reason that you are no meager human, as my son and his Captain would be inclined to agree."

"Your son?" She forgot her place for a moment, letting slip the surprised exclamation.

"The one who brought you to me, child. He bears a striking resemblance to myself would you not agree?"

"I'm not sure." Her voice was small as she replied, trying to appear respectful, "I couldn't make out the faces in the dark."

"A child is a parent's greatest legacy. Full of promise, and of the potential to carry on both bloodline and to obey the behest of the parent." His whispered footsteps halted beside her, his height as equal to her while standing when she was seated above on a table. He pinned her with a stare, hands poised behind his back as he beheld her appearance, "Is there a parent that calls for you, child; someone out there who misses you deeply?"

She first thought about her home in Lake Town, quickly disregarding them as her absence surely wasn't missed. Then she considered Smaug, but in her heart she knew she could not rely on him to come. This was her battle to fight alone, "No, I'm afraid not."

"Let me return for a moment, to the matter of your presence in my wood. I am told there were no footprints that led to your found location, as if you had appeared out of thin air. As you are too young and too precious to be a wizard, that cannot be how you came by the way of my borders."

"If you are waiting for a confession, I have none." She snapped peevishly, distressed by his apparent interest that appeared to stem from avarice. His energy was not the same as Smaug's, and what she thought for this King and his halls was poisonous.

"I did not ask for your confession, unless of course there is something you feel you must share." He waited for a moment, but she kept her lips sealed tight in a straight line as he watched her, revealing brief disappointment on his face, "Pity. I will speak for both of us then. You have a clever mind, but you are too naïve to already see you have given yourself away."

"Given what away?" Even as she attempted ignorance, her voice raised slightly in alarm, something he would have noticed.

His fingers crept forward on the table, the tips tracing the curlicue patterns on the tapestry idly as he faced her. All she could think about was that hand, how close it was to her, and how much she wanted to smack it away with her talons, "This design is beautiful, and the textiles rich. Not something I would choose to hang on my walls, but I am sure it suited Erebor well enough. That is of course, where you took it from." His hand ceased in its movements to reach for the brooch, holding it up between their faces as he leaned forward until they breathed the same air, "And this, a gift from the calamity himself, while we were all so certain after forty years without a sighting that he had surely perished to his doom."

Lily sat quietly, even as her body wished to quake in fear at the sudden change in Thranduil's expression, so severe and filled with hate for Smaug, "They weren't gifts, I took them."

It did nothing to conciliate his anger, though he did not unleash any malice onto her either, "And how was it possible for you to enter the mountain. No man, let alone a child would ever reach the peak nor find a way through the stones. Either you have developed a talent to walk through walls, or that dragon knows of you, and I feel only one of those is a likely answer."

"I—he found me dying inside the ruins of Dale. When I chose not to flee, he captured me." She half lied, knowing it wasn't unreasonable to believe a dragon would steal a young maiden, as they have been known to do in the past.

No pity came from the Elf King, and he reached his empty hand forward, filling it with her chin as he grasped the side of her face with his palm, nails prodding into the flesh of her cheek like a soft fruit beneath his fingers, "How was it you were able to escape that desolate place?"

When she did not answer, his fingers pressed harder into her skin, leaving marks indented in the soft flesh. It drew tears forth from her eyes, one crystalline droplet rolling free down the roundness of her face, slipping between the barriers of his fingers to heal the injury beneath. He retracted his hand, a marveled look on his face before he smiled wickedly, "I understand now, you were no prisoner; you were his treasure. My wonderful, dear child, I understand how you came to me now, and I promise you my borders are well protected. He cannot find you here, and it is likely he would not leave his hoard for you. So rare you are, the last of your kind you must be, Phoenix. The majestic bird takes to flight from the terrible beast; I feel I should have a song written for you." He swiped his hand away, brushing away the remnants of her tears with his thumb, only making her want to weep more as he had mistaken her appearance of one to flee, when all along she had been seeking out the dragon.

"What is this place?" She inquired, looking around the small room while avoiding his gaze.

"Your cell." He indicated to the silver bars where two of his guards were placed in waiting outside, "A rather special one I keep for more valuable prisoners. Understand I cannot trust you, and here is where you will remain until I have use for you." He looked at his hand once more, feeling the wetness of her tears between the pads of his fingers before he did a most unusual thing, taking the residue to smooth over the left cheek of his face. He did not look to her again as if shamed for being observed in his strange habit. She watched as he slipped through the door of her cell, held opened by a guard before it was sealed once again with only her inside. Thranduil did not immediately make for his leave, pausing a moment before giving her his parting words, "My Captain will come to tend to you, as you are also an honoured guest of my halls, Lithuiaew."

She frowned, not knowing the meaning of the name he called her, but was left to ponder over it as his high crown disappeared from sight, up a winding stair. The discarded brooch lied abandoned on her lap, and she acted on impulse, hugging it between her hands as if the poor thing would catch a chill. It was now her only means of feeling close to Smaug, his absence larger than the dragon himself. Was what Thranduil said true? Perhaps all of his gold meant more, and when he returned to his mountain he would simply remain there, claiming slumber again while she festered away in this prison. She wanted to share with him, the experience of her first flight, the only creature she knew who would understand her admiration for the sky. She had not ran, she was lost, and now Smaug would never know that, left to think she was a treacherous thief who had made off into the night away from him. But perhaps he knew? Her mouth sank into a frown as she recalled hearing her name breathlessly leaving a pair of lips, and then she had seen that man in Lake Town, his handsomeness causing her to blush in shyness. Whoever he was, she prayed for his well-being after seeing his wounded expression on the boardwalk. Perhaps he was the key to getting a message to Smaug, and she knew she had to try to form the connection again; otherwise she would be faced with the agelessness of this cell, made to suffer every burning day here until the world fell into darkness, and hope with it.

 


	9. Hello Stranger

Smaug awoke, in what was conceivable to him, minutes later on the soft surface of a mattress. His lids peeled back with a growl, the image of Lily being dragged away by elves kept resurfacing in his mind. If he had still been in his mountain, fire would have already been spilling out from his jaws in rage, but unfortunately he could do little to prove his anger. As he stirred, he noticed how much shorter this bed was than the one at the Master's house. His feet came close to hanging over the end, and one sharp turn from him and he'd either put an elbow through the wall to his right, or land face down on the floor. He brought himself up until his back was pressed up against the stiff headboard, and his eyes swept over the room quickly, surveying the small space until it landed on a small person watching him.

"Hi." The boy's voice was meek as he looked at him with wide eyes. His small height rested on a table top, legs dangling over the edge, kicking childishly like Lily would often do when she thought he wasn't looking at her. His cloth was poor, filled with moth-eaten holes and loose threads that were likely caused by snagging on exposed nails on the boardwalk. While indoors, his tiny feet were kept bare, the soles dirty as they swung in constant motion. Atop his head was a patch of mousy brown hair, and it was in bad need of a comb as it shot out at odd angles. A smudge of mud was streaked across his nose as he wiggled it back and forth, scrunching his face into odd expressions, "Didn't think you would wake up mister."

"Honestly Yricyn, leave the man alone." Said an exasperated voice. An older boy, delving into early manhood entered the room from a small stair, another boy his age following behind him quietly. The tall one was frowning as he ushered for Yricyn to move, "And get off of there before mum yells at you again."

"You're not the boss Gaellyn." Yricyn scowled, but leapt off the table in obedience regardless.

Smaug watched them carefully, their names burned in his head as he knew them to be Lily's brothers by adoption. They shared the same boyish face, though Gaellyn's hair was a dark liver chestnut, parted more to the right and combed straight back to his neck, matching the colour of his earthy brown eyes. On his lean frame he wore a vest of boiled leather over a faded white tunic, the permanent stains tarnishing the hue to appear as yellow, even as the attempts to scrub away the dirt was evident. His trousers were deep gray, tucked into black ankle shoes with straps. It was easy to see from an outsider's perspective that he came from a poor family, but he was decent in appearance nonetheless, "I am the boss until mum gets back, now go and play or something." He continued to scold his younger sibling.

Yricyn shook his head back and forth furiously, "I don't want to. I want to talk to the man." He pointed his finger at Smaug, who at this point was feeling rather ignored because of the family spat. Not that it mattered to him, as he was rather keen to observe these people Lily had been forced to live with, and his conclusions lied in pity for her. How cruel it was, a being of her magnificence to be left with these frivolous peasants.

"I'm sure the man would rather get on with his business." Gaellyn said sternly before turning an apologetic look on to Smaug, "Are you feeling better, sir?"

"Considerably." Smaug remarked offhandedly as he adjusted his position on the bed, the idea of playing the role of sick patient quickly losing its appeal with him in front of these children.

"You know our sister Lirarwen?" Yricyn blurted out, apparently not wanting to be contained as he bounced around on the balls of his feet, making thumping noises on the dull floorboards.

"Yricyn!" Gaellyn hissed at his brother.

"But it has to be true, I heard Alfrid talking about it!"

The other boy in the room scoffed, the first noise he had made since standing away in the corner with his arms crossed, "You shouldn't listen to Alfrid Lickspittle, he's a liar."

"Bard, don't encourage him." Gaellyn snapped, quickly losing his patience as he tried to get a handle on the situation. He turned back to Smaug with a hospitable expression, "I'm sorry about this sir. My brother just hasn't been the same since our sister disappeared."

"Then I am afraid I cannot help you. I have never seen your sister, I only know of her name." He responded cryptically.

In the background, Yricyn's shoulders sank as though he might start weeping. Gaellyn was visibly disappointed as well, while their enigmatic friend Bard kept his lips sealed in a thin line. It was bizarre, but Smaug thought he knew his face from somewhere, or a time long ago. Not many human faces did he bother to memorize, not unless they were an enemy who had wronged him in the past. This Bard had a tough exterior, presumably equal in age to Gaellyn, but already his frame was tanned and stocked with muscles from hard labour. Tangled dark hair hung to his shoulders, tied away from his face which was carved into a frown. Light facial hair covered his upper lip and chin, groomed well unlike Alfrid's, who he appeared to be in strife with. He was very serious and stoic for his age, probably from the realization that this was all his life could buy him. So why was this beggar familiar to the dragon?

"Well, she went up the Long Lake weeks ago. No point in hoping to find her now." Gaellyn said matter-of-factly, which caused Yricyn to sprint from the room miserably in tears, "Yricyn, come back here."

"I'll go talk to him." Bard cut in with no amount of annoyance in his tone as he went for the stairs.

His footsteps descended after the young boy until the room was cascaded into silence. Gaellyn took a seat on one of the two chairs at the table, shifting to face Smaug with a troubled expression, "How do you know of Lirarwen? I at least know that part to be true of you, from the town rumors."

Smaug felt his jaw tighten in rage every time her common name was uttered by this  _boy_. The new name he had given to her had meaning, graceful and delicate to endorse the sentiment he had for his Phoenix. Liliana befitted who she was, straight to her core to that benevolent heart he yearned to possess. Gaellyn knew that she wasn't his sister by blood, perceptible by his body language that attested to the fact that he was sexually attracted to her. Smaug was confident his Lily would never lust for this pathetic mortal in return, and why would she when she had his company to satiate all of her needs? The things he would do to her when he found her would make her forget ever associating with these people.

"The basis of how I know her name is unimportant. I wish to know of her, and any information you provide would be most appreciated." He stated cunningly, "I've been led to believe there is something unusual about her."

"Of course Alfrid would say that." Gaellyn said affronted, aware that the last place he had come from was the Master's house, "But she wasn't really. People were frightened of her because she looked unusual, and could touch fire without being burned. Some thought she worshiped dragons, but Lirarwen was just the same as any girl, at least to me and my brother."

A pleasant feeling coursed through him at the prospect of Liliana worshiping his race, even if he knew that to be a falsity, it still conjured delightful fantasies in his mind that he would have to think on later, "And what of the people who raised her?"

Gaellyn appeared guilty at the mention of his parents, "Understand, I love my mother and father, but they were never kind to Lirarwen. Yricyn couldn't see it, but I did. I don't understand why, because I remember they had brought her back with them when I was still small. For the longest time she was just another sibling in our house, but they started to turn against her as we grew older. I couldn't question them about it, but I tried to help her where I could. Maybe my efforts weren't good enough, because she still left, didn't she?" He questioned more to himself than Smaug, a faraway look in his eye before he returned to the present of the room, "You still have hope that she is alive, Caladrieng?"

"I do not doubt her tenacity." He said simply, "She was found along the Celduin I am told."

"To my knowledge, that is the truth."

"I wish to make my way back towards the Greenwood on the river, but I will need a way of travel."

"Bard and his father could take you. His family has worked as bargemen on those waters for years." Gaellyn offered, though his brow knitted into confusion, "But wouldn't you rather go down the Long Lake to find her?"

"I have need to backtrack first, and I never said I was going to look for her." Smaug retorted with ease, "Perhaps if you are so noble, you should search for her. Love, after all, is rumored to know no bounds."

Gaellyn flushed pink from his ears, down to his neck from the patronizing tone in which Smaug spoke, clearly not used to being so see-through with his emotions as he had been in that moment, "It's not as if I hadn't thought about that trek, but I never saw reason to believe she would still be alive this long, or would want to be found."

"You surrender much too easily to petty reasons. She will never love you in return for it." Smaug rose from the small bed, dwarfing the room and everything in it with his height as he looked down on Gaellyn, "Women are treasures that need to be claimed, but also not forgotten. Heeding my advice might benefit you in future incidences."

He left Gaellyn alone with those words, having not cared how insulting they might have been for the boy to comprehend. The narrow space of the stair forced him to hunch as he climbed down from the upstairs room. It appeared the family lived above the cider house even as they did not run it. Much of the wood had absorbed the natural fragrance of apple and spice as he continued through the stairwell. The echoes of his footfalls stopped when he did, much of the building still groaning as his eyes observed the main floor of the cozy lodge. The sitting room, kitchen and dining area were all combined into one cramped space, white gossamer curtains barely able to keep the light out from the one room as he looked at the tattered furniture. A hallway broke off from the sitting room, likely the other bedrooms for the residents of the home, and he could hear the friendly banter through the floorboards, down to the cider house. His eyes narrowed, and he moved to peek through one of the curtains, searching for the whereabouts of Bard. He was vital in the role of finding Lily, who he knew to be taken by those elves and that greedy King of the wood whose face he could recall when it was burning. Oh the screaming, how it had made his blood rush in pleasure.

Bard was outside, kneeling down on the boardwalk while talking to an upset Yricyn, tears cleansing the boy's face from mud. Smaug let his feet carry him the rest of the way through the lodge, down through the cider house where he received odd looks from those working and drinking there. He paid them no mind, shoving the front door opened with the heel of his hand until he was back outside in Lake Town. The boards directly outside were where he had fallen unconscious from the link with Lily. He had since built his walls back up, and he had not felt the tingle of her pull again. It was yet too early to feel concern for why she had not reached out again, but he was alert enough to be tense, and his demeanor was curt as he approached the pair of individuals.

"Do you think Lirarwen will come back?" Yricyn asked in a small voice to Bard, though Smaug had heard it without trouble.

"I don't know, but you have to be strong Yricyn. No more tears, your sister wouldn't want that." Bard said sternly as he wiped away at the boy's face with his thumb, his voice smooth and calming like a sea breeze. He stood up, patting his hand against Yricyn's shoulders, ushering him forward, "Go on then, find your friends and fix yourself lunch."

Yricyn's head bobbed up and down in reply, turning and nearly running into Smaug's legs. He gazed up with the sun in his eyes, an apology on his lips before he took off into town with Smaug watching in subdued interest. His eyes shifted to Bard, whose face had grown stark upon his presence, "Might I inquire something of your bargeman?"

Bard waved a hand in permission, though mistrust was etched on his face, "I will listen."

"I require the services of your father's boat to gain passage across the Celduin. Gaellyn tells me your family knows those waters."

Bard's limbs uncoiled from striking position, though his squinted eyes read suspicion as he tried to piece together the dragon's purpose, "You hear well stranger, but what is out there you seek?"

"I would prefer no questions asked." Smaug said bluntly to which Bard smirked.

"Sorry Caladrieng, but it doesn't work like that here, not unless you would be willing to pay. The season has been slow, and my family has suffered for it."

Smaug gritted his teeth together, knowing it was possible what he could do, but at the same time his hands closed a little tighter, not wanting to let even one coin slip from his grasp. It was for Lily though, and if he could not fly to her, he would have to barter something for his way of travel. The idea of parting with even one jewel quelled his false pleasantries, but he knew he had to, for his Lily, because there was no greater treasure to him, "If it is payment you want, I am in the position to oblige." The words were like poison in his mouth.

Bard was taken aback also, "It must be quite the position then, but how do I trust you when you could have not a penny to your name?"

"Because you have not a penny to your name either, son of bargeman, leaving you with nothing to lose." Smaug smiled coldly as he came out the victor. It was never a contest of who would be the better negotiator, though the human was not so terrible in skill, something he would not have expected, and from a poor man no less.

"Alright." Bard agreed, "I will take you to my father. He has a shipment to collect tomorrow morning. We only stop at the borders of the Greenwood, so from there you will have to find your own means of travel."

"I can manage that." He was confident that being back in Lily's presence would cause him to revert into his true form. It was her kiss that had transformed him, and it stood to reason that by the same gesture would the magic be unmade. However, it was known to him that he would not be in a rush to shift back once he found Lily, not with the so many delicious options presenting themselves in this form to impose a bond with her. A shudder of delight crawled its way down his spine in the anticipation of what he could do with her.

"Follow me then." Bard started back into the town, some shifty-eyed glances and scowls being thrown his way that did not escape Smaug's attention. The bargeman's son was unpopular with the townsfolk it appeared, and it likely didn't have anything to do with his surly appearance. The motive behind their hate was unimportant to Smaug, though he could not shake the feeling that he knew more of this bloodline than he could recollect. A matter for another time. Soon those thoughts were vanquished with ones of Liliana, her sweet song calling to him, making him as lost as a shadow in a cave as she continued to swallow him up with her dark eyes. He would be with her soon, and the dragon in him roared with conquest as his emotions for her prevailed.

* * *

Where had the hospitality of the elves gone? Lily assumed she had been forgotten down in that cellar, no visits coming to her since the King had left her in cold comfort with his parting words. Perhaps she was mistaken, but she thought he had promised her his Captain would come tend to her. Not that she needed tending to; maybe a garment to dress in and some company was all she was craving for. Her hands followed in his footsteps, now tracing the patterns on the tapestry while her backside continued to grow chillier against the stone in the subterranean cell. Thranduil was clever, far more so than any human, and it did not completely catch her off guard that he had figured out so quickly the truth of what she was. Her concerns were occupied by what he would do with that knowledge, a fear she felt was justified. She had gone over his queer actions over and again in her head, taking her tears to rub against his cheek as if he wished to savor her essence. Smaug had warned her that her kind was once held captive for the harvesting of their tears, but she did not think to look to the elves for such crimes. Surely they had their own brand of magic's and powerful healing draughts that would not require her tears of power.

She released a heavy sigh, blowing the hair away from her face as she stretched her back across the stone table. Even if she had only known him a short time, her heart still yearned for Smaug. Her mighty dragon and her protector in the bizarre relationship they had transpired in. He cared for her, and she refused to believe otherwise since seeing the leftover tears caught in his thick lashes. It was difficult to care for one such as him in return, not a tame beast by nature and so adjusted to his isolation that she was left to wonder where she fit into his mountain. She could sympathize with his situation of being the only one left of his kind, for it was the same of her now. Whether she was his caged bird or crown jewel made little difference, and as she longed for his warmth to stave off this damp cold, she attempted to reach out again for the strangers mind.

Something was blocking her from forming the connection; even as unskilled as she was with the technique she could feel nothing. Her mind stretched out from the borders of the gnarled wood, touching darkness as she searched for any remnant of the man she had been fantasizing over with some shame. She had never felt such emotions before, the strong pull of want and heady lust causing her to blush to her toes beneath the tapestry. Her efforts of finding him with her mind dwindled as her hand started to trace over the contours of her body while thinking about him. The actions were so gratuitous, and she felt wrong for behaving in such a manner, but because he was a stranger, it made her responses all the more potent. What would his hands feel like on her body, and would his larger frame be hot as he hovered over her? She adored heat, so she imagined he would have delicious warmth that could spread through to her belly. How would she touch him in return? She was a little more confident with herself in imaginary than she would likely be in reality, and the sense of power that stemmed from that gave her courage as she would discover his skin with her lips. One thing that bothered her was she could not see his eyes, and the illusion was shattered once she tried to paint that detail in herself, knowing she had tarnished the belief and the realism of the precarious embrace.

Feeling foolish and sick of herself, she sat back up with a huff, hugging her knees to her chest as her light brow sank into a bitter frown. The feelings of arousal lingered when she wished it to leave her completely. What was she hoping for, a relationship with an older man? She would never have that so long as she was prisoner to Thranduil or Smaug, and while she hated to include her dragon in that, it was an undeniable truth. She was never going to be able to have her own life, and with her life never-ending by resurrection, perhaps it was for the better. If Thranduil had never taken her prisoner, she wondered if she would have eventually departed out on her own, leaving Smaug to his mountain. The possibility was there, but then it was also a wasteful thought because things had not worked out that way, and instead she was barred in a cell. There was no horizon for her to unfold her wings to now, only the endless moist of the chamber.

She was startled by approaching voices, their soft language falling on to her with deaf ears as they approached up the path to her cell door. There were only two of them, a she-elf, and the other the King's son as she now knew him to be. Both of them fell taciturn as they halted before the silver bars, the she-elf took out a key and inserted it into the lock as the tumblers clicked opened. Lily watched them cautiously, as they were both armed with bows, each their own quiver to their backs, and hilts of swords hidden throughout. The Captain stepped forward, dropping a fern green bundle of cloth beside her on the table, "From our Lord and King Thranduil. He wishes for you to be wreathed in the colours of our wood."

And not in the red of the dragon, or of tapestries of Erebor was the reasoning behind it. Lily fingered the material in her hands, the robe plush velvet and silk stitched together delicately. The she-elf communicated with the King's son, uttering  _'Legolas'_  which appeared to be his name. Respectfully, they both turned and stepped close to the bars of the cell as they waited for her to slip into the gifted garment. It glided over her limbs with ease, though her heart ached as the tapestry fell to the floor in a discarded pool around her feet. She kept the brooch hidden in the fold of her new fabrics, a treasure she promised to return to Smaug's hoard having unintentionally lifted it from his stock. He knew every piece of gold in his collection after all, and it would feel like betrayal on her part if she lost it.

"Thank you." She said aloud, indicating to them that it was perfectly well to turn and face her.

Their long and regal faces made her anxious, but more in awe than of fear. Elves were truly marvelous to behold, and this was the first she could remember seeing of them, though it was highly possible she had been in her own run-ins in the past with them before her memory was lost. The hue of the female's hair caused some envy in her. Rich auburn, toasted light like lavish ambers as it tumbled down her back. In her role as Captain, she dressed in warriors' garb, light fabrics that moved in correspondence with her lithe body. Her eyes were clearer than spring water, and a small smile was tugging at her lips that Lily could have mistaken as a friendly greeting if she had not already put her guard up.

"Your beauty is fair, noble Phoenix." Said the she-elf. "My name is Tauriel."

"Your name is lovely." Lily replied shyly from the compliment, even as she understood her value only came from her rarity, "My name is Liliana."

"Forgive me, my lady." Legolas cut in with a précised manner. The elf Prince was winsome. All of his fair features were shared by his father, from the texture and hue of their hair, to the pearl white skin of perfection that Lily was tempted to touch, believing her hand would slip right through him as an apparition. His elegance could put the Ladies of the courts of men to shame, and the details were eminently graceful on his sculpted face . She realized her ugliness must have been more apparent when sharing in their space, and she longed for a comb to run through her lavender hair as her eyes met with the Prince's once more, "The King orders you to be addressed as Lithuiaew."

She did not attempt to cover the scowl that spread over from her mouth. It seemed everywhere she was carted off to, her name was being forced to change. Lily was perhaps the most informal of the lot, but she preferred it over any noble title of worth, or of Sindarin which she could hardly pronounce correctly without making a fool of herself, "Then you may address me as such to appease your King, but I will refer to myself as Liliana. I have had far too much taken from me recently, but not my name."

Legolas's face barely showed the outrage that he was feeling, all of his emotions kept reserved for his eyes as they flashed with anger, "How is it you came to be here? The dragon does not simply part with any treasure he claims."

Clearly they had first made a stop to speak with Thranduil about her, but Lily shook off the knowledge of that fact hastily, "I managed my escape when his eye was turned." She lied, her loyalties true to Smaug as she was still uncertain if he had returned to the mountain. Clearly no elf had seen him fly overhead the Greenwood, as their beliefs were based on tales of her escape, "I could not control my shift, when I landed abruptly in your wood. I suspect hunger is to blame."

"We thought you might be in need of meal and drink." Tauriel stated as she stepped forward, away from her partner, "It is told that your kind does not favour meat. We will have natural foods prepared for you to intake."

Legolas stepped forward and said something else to Tauriel that Lily could not understand, though his tone was passionate. They shared a look before turning on their feet to leave her cell, but not before the red tapestry was swept up off the floor and into the Prince's arms to be disposed of. She felt herself panic when the door clacked shut again, the offending sound of metal grating against metal put her on edge, "But what is my purpose here?" She cried as she ran up to the bars after them, reaching through with a hand in vain.

Only did Tauriel pause, while the Prince kept to his path up the stone steps. He only took a glance back once at the she-elf before he disappeared from sight, a troubled look on his face that Lily could not discern, nor did she try as Tauriel returned to the bars of her cell, "You will be kept safe here, Liliana."

She blushed slightly from her name, feeling somewhat responsible for the act of rebellion from the female opposite of her, "To be kept safe so my tears can be harvested? That doesn't sound like much of an existence."

Tauriel grew despondent for a moment from her words, "Our King forgets some birds are not meant to be caged. I would keep you safe because you are the last of your kind, but I can see this is not my Lord's intent for you. You are a majestic Phoenix, and I hear your wings spread wide when you hit the horizon. A silent moment hangs in the air, like the last breath of a flame before vanishing, and those who claim to know of the divine bird never look upon its majesty again. " Her story was told with love as she spoke.

"I will never see another sunset, or touch another horizon." Lily refuted dejectedly.

"Do not lose hope when much of it remains, Liliana."

She came close to falling on her knees in begging on the hard ground, while the she-elf continued to bestow her with such promise that she could not make out in the dark, "What shall I do?"

Tauriel only watched on with a melancholic smile from the side of freedom as she showered Lily in faith, "Be patient."


	10. Follow What You Know

It was late into the evening when Smaug departed from Lake Town by way of the water. The bargeman and his son had remained quiet since the arrival of his presence, only speaking in silent conversations whenever their eyes would meet across the barge. Smaug did not need their company, and he spent his time at the bow of the boat as he watched Lake Town settle in the distance as the stars emerged across the sky. His sight had lingered on the Wind Lance held high above the settlement until he could no longer see it. Memories flashed in his mind over a time long passed, the same structures in the city of Dale that had sought to slay him. The attempts of man were unsuccessful against him, though absentmindedly his hand rubbed at his chest where he knew an imperfection marred his otherwise flawless being. Even in this form, a pale white scar ran across his pectoral, ruining the golden glow of his chest from where he had taken a hit of an iron-forged, black arrow. When he looked to Bard and his father, he was reminded of that incident, and he finally understood what it was about their faces that he could recall. They shared in the bloodline of that individual who had come close to ending him, a nameless foe whose line would have been slandered for his failure. It explained the denizens distance towards Bard when they had walked across the boardwalk. Odd it was that he should find himself there now in their presence, so unaware they were of the looming threat he was to them. He could bring death to them if he ever wished it; his dragon-fire longing to be released from within his sleeping form, but a rational part of him acknowledged he had survived because of their ancestors' poor aim. Blackly to himself, he thought it comical.

True to his word, the Master of Lake Town had arrived just before his departure, and no doubt a good bit of eavesdropping from Alfrid had led him there. Smaug had been presented with a pack of what rations the Master was willing to part with, though he knew his travels would not take him far when he entered the wood, and likely the formality of the gift was wasted on him. It would have looked bizarre if he had refused of course, so with more false smiles and clammy handshakes, he had said his farewell to the Master before taking his leave. The Master and Alfrid had combined their sour expressions, shooting them at Bard and his father as the barge pushed out from the docks. The father had been humble, keeping his head down, but Bard had returned the stare blankly, unblinking to those who wished to challenge him, and Smaug had observed with interest, not understanding why this young man was so proud when he had so little. Living a life without riches was meaningless, at least by Smaug's understanding.

" _Hello . . . anyone?"_

Smaug's head shot up, coming back to his mind as he looked away from the dark waters. Lily's voice was calling again, only she was blindly reaching out, no longer calling for his name. He closed his eyes, concentrating on only her while he blocked out the sounds of the river and of the creaking boat, feigning sleep on the small wooden bench so he would not be disturbed by the two other passengers. Easing into his mind, he slowly allowed for the walls he had built to tumble until he could find her. The distance he had put between himself and Lake Town had brought her closer, and he was transported into the wood that kept her from him. His body was not solid when he materialized into a small room of rock, the walls damp and veiled in ivy. A stone table was placed in the heart of the cell, and pacing around it frantically was his Lily. Her face was masked in despair, though no tears fell. Those elves had clothed her in a hideous green frock, befitting the halls of that corrupt King. Smaug wanted to reach out and hold her in his arms, but he was merely a meager specter in that place, and his only means of communication was through speech.

" _Lily."_  He commanded his voice in his mind to be heard, and her facial reaction made him aware she had listened.

" _Hello? Where are you?"_  Relief coloured her tone, and she uncrossed her arms, halting in her pacing as she looked about the confines of her prison.

" _I am with you Lily."_ His illusion stepped forward through the haze, and the ghost of his fingers ran down her face. She could not see or feel him there, but her quick intake of breath made him believe she knew.

" _Why did you leave me, Smaug?"_  Her head tilted a tad, as if leaning into his touch.

The crack in her voice caused a storm of rage in his heart, directed at himself as oceans of guilt swept through him for causing her such misery.  _"I never meant to leave you."_

" _I tried to find you."_ She explained timorously.  _"I was able to fly from the mountain, but it did not last long. I make for a very poor Phoenix I'm afraid."_

He chuckled deeply at her timid doubts, and his confidence grew in the faith that he could help her learn,  _"You are the only Phoenix my Lily, and this knowledge is very much new to you."_

" _Well, I've been taken by wood elves, and this knowledge is known to them now."_

A snarl flew out uncontained by his lips. That deformed King would want her tears for his half ruined face. As if they could help him now. Smaug would set a fire on his throne until all of his flesh would melt into a puddle around his feet. He would have Thranduil's bones bronzed for his hoard, and level the forest to black ash if they took even one tear from her.

" _I will find you Liliana."_ He spoke close to her ear, and his lips would have been able to graze against her skin if he had physically been present. He closed his eyes tightly as the yearning to feel her corrupted his senses.

" _Please hurry."_

Footsteps broke the muted quiet of the moment, and Lily stepped away from his phantom embrace as her sight turned towards the bars of her cell. Her inexperience made her forget to close her mind, and Smaug chose not to break the connection when it gave him the opportunity to study the interior structures of the halls of the wood elves.

"Liliana." A flinty female voice called to her at the bars, and Lily scuttled over, picking up the long end of her robes that would have otherwise dragged along the ground, "The King has requested an audience with you."

Lily's company was a she-elf. Her intangible beauty was common for her kind, though she was showing respect to his Phoenix, and Smaug did not immediately hate her for it. He also felt a heat spread through him at the knowledge of Lily using the name he had bestowed on her, when she just as easily could have gone by Lirarwen.

"I must go now?"

"Yes, I am afraid he will not delay."

The elf unlocked the silver bars with a large metal key, and Lily stepped out tentatively, her eyes sweeping over the cell one last time before she followed at the side of the female. Smaug's echoless footsteps trailed after, his transparent body walking through the cage and up the stairs after his Lily. As so young and frail as she was, her height still matched the older elf, who she kept turning to gaze at admiringly. The Lily he was seeing now was not the feisty and argumentative girl he had come to know in his mountain. Out in the world, she was shy and self-conscious, notable by the way she kept wringing her hands together. Where people took away her strength, he could give it to her.

The earthy halls were dim, even as they traveled up through the Kingdom towards Thranduils' throne. Soft whispers were in the air, of a voiceless hymn being sung, and Smaug could see no other elves wandering, save for the opulently armored guards. They were clad heavily in glistening silver, and deep cedar green, blending in to the walls of which they protected. Lily glanced at them as she passed by until they entered a tall pedestal, high above the rest of the corridors.

Thranduil stood with his back turned, a large empty seat before him that he normally would have occupied. No twisted crown of antlers was placed on his head, allowing his long hair to flow free, and it appeared to produce a halo over his head when the light struck the faded locks. He was now adorned in royal purple, the delicate trim still silver while the robes brushed against the stone floor. He turned on his feet without haste, his ardent gaze settling on Lily before turning to address his Captain.

"Leave us, Tauriel." He remarked something else to her in Sindarin, and she bowed respectively at the waist before leaving the throne room.

Lily's trepidation's furthered to grow once the she-elf left her side, and she was left alone with the King once more. "You wished to speak with me?"

"As of this moment, you are the most valued possession in my halls." Thranduil replied impassioned. "How are you fairing Lithuiaew? I realize our first meeting might not have left the best impression for you, but rest assured I am willing to correct your opinions of my halls, and of my people if you cooperate. You have been gifted with clothing, and given the finest food worthy of your kind to ingest. As I first told you, my borders are well protected and there have been no sightings of the beast coming to find you. You are safe here."

The insolence of this elf! Smaug's body filled with seething hatred for the King, his animosity unwilling to cool as he filled his Lily with such ideas of him. His words did not appear to have an outward effect on her, but fear still gripped him that they would succeed in turning her against him if they were separated for too long.

"Why am I to be kept in a cell? I feel much more like a prisoner than of a respected guest, or of a valued possession." She said with some guile.

"I needed reassurance that you could be trusted, and I have that now." Thranduil started to stalk circles around Lily, sizing her up in a way that made her visibly uncomfortable. "You have not shifted since being brought here." More of a question over a statement, and his eyes were sharp as he waited for an explanation.

"I am not sure how to . . . That was my first flight." She admitted in a small voice.

Thranduil turned an acute frown towards her. "How is that possible when your life span is similar to that of an elf?"

Lily's eyes were shining as she kept locked in his devastating stare. "My memories are lost to me."

Thranduil persisted in his circling until he stopped behind her, daring to reach a hand forward to sweep her hair back from her shoulder. Smaug saw her body tense from the touch of the Kings cold and spindly fingers, trailing over the sleeve of her robe in slow caresses. Every bone in that hand would break if he harmed her flesh, Smaug would see to that, and he despised the helpless feeling that came with watching her being tormented by that foul King.

"Poor creature, you know nothing of your importance." Thranduil murmured beside her head, encompassing her form with his straight, tall figure. "Would you like me to tell you?"

Lily inclined her neck to look Thranduil in the eye, a mix of concern and curiosity in her expression. Smaug strained to hear her answer when her lips started to move with no sound being produced. Her voice was muffled and hazy, and he felt his vision start to go black and blotchy along the edges of his peripherals, outside the center of his gaze. His body was fading, and Lily was drifting further away from him as the connection crumbled between them, like chunks of ice breaking from a mountain glacier. He roared in anger, reaching in vain for Lily until he was violently pulling back to reality. He gasped deeply, propelling his body upright as his eyes adjusted to the dark morning sky overhead. The barge had stopped, anchored at the bank along the river of their destination point. His head was spinning, having jackknifed into a seated position so quickly, and he rested his forehead into his palm for a moment, breathing deeply while all of his concentration focused on what Lily could be going through at the moment. When he pulled his hand away, he realized Bard and his father were hovering beside the bench he had took rest on, studying him in a combination of suspicion and intrigue. He sighed heavily, his breath feeling hot as it left his lips.

"We have reached your destination then?" He cleverly stated, avoiding the discussion of what they thought they had seen transpire shortly ago.

"Yes, the barrels will be arriving soon." Bard explained while shooting a look to his father that he had a handle on the situation of Smaug's parting. The man silently took his leave with a gentle head nod, tangled dark hair spilling over his shoulders as he went, and that same scornful expression on his face that his son practiced. Bard crossed his arms, adjusting the bow that was hooked over his right shoulder as he gave Smaug a withering look that had no effect on the dragon. "I wonder what nightmares plague you, Caladrieng."

"My nightmares are none of your business." Smaug retorted scathingly while reaching for his rucksack. He stood to his full height, looming over Bard, who to his credit, did not waver or cower from intimidation. Smaug sidestepped him, making for the gravel bank, knowing full well Bard was following. He pulled himself over the side of the barge, landing swiftly on his two feet, pebbles being kicked up by his shoes, and for a moment he was reminded of the vision of Lily bathing under the moonlight when he looked back at the water. Her body had been so pert as the water had trickled down her mounds, glistening from silver starlight. Always a lovely vision that left him starved for more of her, to taste, to feel, and protect. He shook the memory from his mind as Bard stepped into his field of view once more, coming for a possible farewell by the look of him. "Come to wish me well, bargeman?"

"Yes, actually." Bard confessed as his rough working boot kicked up tiny rocks with the brunt of the toe when he dug it into the ground absentmindedly. "I don't know what you are looking for, but if it is important, I hope you find it."

Smaug was unmoved by the humbling's of a human, but for the sake of etiquette, he feigned appreciation. "I have no doubt I will. You will receive proper payment for assisting me, and I will make sure it goes to the hands of your family, and to no others of your town."

"Good." Bard acknowledged, "Alfrid has been known to have sticky fingers."

"I most certainly would not want him to receive anything he is unworthy of." Said Smaug flippantly, and then continued with his parting. "Farewell . . . Bard."

As if sensing his disdain for addressing him by name, Bard smirked. "I have a feeling we shall meet again Caladrieng, so in lieu of farewell, I will say, see you later."

Smaug gave him an emotionless stare before turning away in the direction of where he knew the woods to be. Bard's father watched from the side, holding his hand up in farewell, expecting nothing more from the stranger he had given passage to. Smaug kept his back to the moon, and his face forward towards Lily. He knew not of what he would find in the trees, having grown so used to floating above them. Even when he would stand on solid ground, no treetop would reach much higher than his impressive shoulders, and the hurricane of his wings would strip them of foliage with one beat. His human legs carried him for the longest time, out of touch from the spray of the river, and eventually away from the light of the sky that was caught between the suns rising and the moons falling. Not once did he look back, finding it an imprudent distraction to his goal.

He strode at a hurried pace for what felt like hours, crossing uneven terrain built of rock and earth, until he came to the edge of a solid forest. All sound in the air ceased, and the daunting wood gave a glare at him as he stepped on to the virulent path. The air was damp as it crawled up in his nose, and he could taste the moss and lichen on his tongue as he breathed. He stuck to the path until he was a good distance in the darkness, feeling eyes ever present on his form, big bulbous white ones glowing in the shadows off the trees, away from the sun dappled path. If he was to be captured by wood elves, he would have to cause a disturbance in their realm. Blood was pumping to his ears, the noise deafening, and it felt like his heart was growing too large for his body. With a deep breath, he broke away from the road, becoming lost in the Greenwood as he plunged into the black.

* * *

As Lily craned her neck to look back at Thranduil, she thought she felt the ghost of a presence leave them, the icy chill no longer lingering in the shadows. For a moment she stood with her mouth agape, forgetting that the King had asked something of her, and then she remembered it was pertaining to her true form. He was offering the information so freely that she could not help but assume it was a lie. There was no doubt that in his long life he would know about her race, but she could not see the purpose of why he would tell her these things without wanting to be deceitful.

"I would rather discover these things on my own." She finally said as her lips moved again.

"Did the beast tell you things?" Thranduil asked, his voice shaking in rage, though his countenance was cool and stilled.

"Perhaps." She replied carefully, aware that he was testing her for a reaction. "Though we would hardly converse at all, as I am one so beneath him."

"I am sure that is what he would have you believe. Dragons, ever proud creatures they are, and all the more difficult to live with." He retracted his hand from her shoulder, sliding it up over her neck where his fingers skimmed her throat while she swallowed thickly beneath his grasp. "Of course I am well aware of that. My Kingdom has shared in the threat of his presence for forty years. Such a short time for my people, but those mortals on the Long Lake have surely suffered in fear. How unfortunate it is for them."

He did not sound sincere over the situation of the lake people, and Lily was thankful she had not spoken to him of her history there. She remained stock-still under his hand, his fingers wrapped around the column of her neck, teasing with slow rubs that held nothing intimate. If his ambition was to gain her trust, she supposed she would have to play her part in the farce as well. "You want my tears?"

Thranduil's hand halted in rubbing her flesh, renouncing his hold on her as he rotated around her, coming forward to look her in the eyes. "So he did tell you something. It is interesting to me that he would bother to speak with you at all, let alone to inform you of your most valued gift. We must share in a common purpose, but then again the world has been made to believe no craft of man can pierce through his armor."

"I do not care about his purpose." Lily refuted. Feeling emboldened, she stretched her hand out and felt the left side of his face. She was stunned by her own actions, but not nearly as surprised as Thranduil was. His dark brows rose high on his forehead, and emotions swirled in the depths of his eyes. "What lurks beneath, that you wish to heal?"

The trance broke, and his face twisted into anger when his brows came down in a scowl. His hand pulled hers away from his cheek, squeezing tightly in his fist until she thought all of the bones in her fingers would shatter. "Cease with your trickery, you manipulative bird!"

He took control with his strength, steering her backwards until she was thrown back on to the hard surface of his throne. She barely held back her grimace as she clutched her throbbing hand to her chest, refusing to let any tears mist to her eyes as Thranduil stood over her imposingly, grip tight on either armrest with his hands. The grand chair looked as if it would crumble apart beneath his palms as he squeezed, leaning all of his body forward until their noses were touching. His was snarled in fury, causing her to shrink back as much as she could to create distance from his wrath. "Are you under his dragon-spell, or simply foolish to think you can outwit me?"

"It would appear I am foolish." Lily admitted candidly. "But you cannot lie. I know there is something you wish to correct, and quite badly too, or else you would not be so concerned over my staying put."

He eased back, not completely out of her personal space, but enough to give her breathing room. She watched in fascination as the pale layers of skin began to peel away from his left cheek, exposing pink muscle and tender tissue that was scorched angrily in black and red. The decaying flesh covered the whole left side of his face, making the harsh edges of his jaw visible, and the eye bloodshot as it was surrounded by the thin lids. Lily felt horrified by his disfigurement, and also a shred of pity that she dared not show as Thranduil bent at his waist to snarl unpleasantly at her.

"Dragon-fire does not heal like other wounds. It festers deep, burning and corroding until it leaves a permanent mark on the victim." Lily tried to avert her gaze, but the King held her chin firmly in his hand, turning her head so she was forced to look. "Do not look away!" Do you know how I was given this scar?"

"N-n-no" Lily sputtered while his grip on her face started to cause pain.

"Your dragon." He hissed before relenting on his hold. All at once the magical façade built up around the burns until only a pearly white surface of soft skin shielded the world from the truth. He regained his composure, stepping back with his head held high as if nothing unsavory had just transpired. In the wake of his tirade, he settled into an eerie calm expression, fixing her with a stare. "I will have you drained of your tears, until all that will remain is a shell of ash, and when your burning day comes, you will start over again. What cares have I, that you are the last Phoenix? As far as the rest of Middle-Earth is concerned, you have never existed."

"Please, I wish to help you." Lily cried.

"Enough!"

He held up his hand to silence her, half a mind to say something else before they were interrupted with the arrival of his son. Legolas stopped by the guards just before the top to the Throne room, a reserved look of puzzlement on his face when he noticed Lily on the throne with her eyes wide in terror from his father hovering over her. He respectively slowed his entrance while Thranduil gave one last hard look at Lily before turning sharply to face his son. "What news validates this interruption?" He asked tersely.

"My King." Legolas said reverently. "We have found an intruder in our wood, who has come down from the Celduin. His pack was light and his cloth new. From Esgaroth it would seem."

"A trader or a bargeman then." Thranduil remarked dismissively. "Give him food and shelter for the night, and tomorrow we will send him on his way."

Legolas looked past his father's shoulder to Lily before hesitantly replying in his Elvish tongue. Lily's eyes darted back and forth between them, noticing how fast they were speaking, and how quickly their tones changed from casual to vehement. She tried to distinguish what had gone amiss, but she was not apt in the ways of reading between the lines. The air fell stagnant as both of their voices dropped suddenly, signifying the end of the conversation. Legolas was unmoving while the King swiveled back to look at her in his high seat. "A friend of yours?"

She thought for a moment before coming up blank in confusion at who could possibly know she was there. "I have no friends."

"No, indeed you do not." He focused back on his son, who stood in waiting for orders. "Bring him to me."

"And what of her?" Legolas indicated at Lily.

"Have Tauriel return her to her cell. Lithuiaew will be our guest until I bid otherwise of her."

Thranduil did not look on her anymore as she stood, and was taken away by his sons grip on her arm. Legolas only had to tug once to remind her to keep up, but he said nothing as they descended the stairs from the Throne room. The guards kept their eyes forward, making it impossible to tell if they were watching or silently judging her as they passed. Relief flooded her at the sight of Tauriel standing with a group of elves. The she-elf was careful not to look her in the eye for too long, but Lily could see she was also relieved by her presence. As easy as it was breathing air, Legolas handed her back to the Captain while exchanging brief pleasant words with one another. Their friendship was apparent, and Lily held no ill-will towards the son for following the orders of his father. Despite his princely appearance, he embodied heroism, and good deeds were likely to come from him yet.

Lily stayed at Tauriel's side as she was led away, though she could not suppress her curiosity at wanting to see who the intruder was. She kept stealing glances back over her shoulder, stumbling once or twice on her own feet as she went about her spying. There was activity swirling at the gates of the Kingdom, and a large group of elves came through, their movements in unison as they marched with a shackled prisoner. It was difficult for her to see through the many heads of elves that were banded around him, but immediately she noticed he was tall. His head was covered in dark locks, and the hands that were tied before him were coloured deep from the sun, a rich golden hue. Just as she was about to turn the corner to the stair with Tauriel, a gap opened in the row of warriors, giving her a perfect chance to learn his profile.

She was terrible at holding in a gasp, and though it was thought impossible, he seemed to hear her across the space that separated them. His ember eyes found hers, a look of recognition on his face that Lily did not comprehend. She knew him from her vision on the boardwalk, but this stranger knew her in return. He brought his bound hands up to his face, holding a single long digit up to his lips in a gesture of silence before he was led onward to the Throne room. Lily continued on her path down the stair back to her cell, knees wishing to collapse as she struggled to hold herself steady. Her heart was beating strongly in her chest, and her face blushed terribly until she thought she might combust in flames once again. The stirrings in her stomach were of hope and arousal. Her savior had come, but she did not acknowledge that it was her dragon keeping to his promise, and that he had been there with her all along.

 


	11. Safe From Pain

Smaug observed Thranduil with interest, fascinated because—much like dragons—elves were ageless in face. In that survey, he could say that the Elf King had not changed in the slightest since last he had seen him in person. There was no shock felt on Smaug's behalf that the burn was hidden under an enchantment, as vain as the King had become. The line of Durin might have suffered from their sickness of treasure, but this elf could not proclaim himself to be the better, not when the dragon knew the truth of what he was. Another being in range of the mountain who would seek a share of the treasure when his death came to pass. To those foolish few, Smaug snorted in derision. Let them wait; it would be another age of the earth before the effects of time would even begin to turn against him.

The King sat on his throne, leaning to one side with his head tilted, eyes trailing up and down repeatedly on what he perceived as a human brought before him. He would be more difficult to deceive than someone as slow and dim-witted as the Lake Master, but then Smaug was not entirely sure if that was his aim. A large part of him wanted Thranduil to realized the truth at the last moment, giving Smaug the last laugh once again as he would bring utter ruin and death to the forest. His first priority was retrieving Lily and bringing her to safety though, and so his revenge would have to wait until the opportune time presented itself. The King's son was also present, quiet and still as a sculpture while his brilliant blue eyes were trained on him, ready to make a move if Smaug acted against his father.

"Why are you here, trespasser?" Thranduil questioned of him, his voice teetering on the edge between madness and serenity. "Are you here for the girl?"

"Her family in Esgaroth have been searching for her," Smaug lied, with disrespect in his tone. "I have simply expanded the range of their efforts."

Thranduil frowned gently, sitting straighter as he adjusted his practiced mask. "She has family? You mean to say there are others like her?"

"I'm not sure I know what you speak of, dear King." Of course Smaug knew all too well, and because of the lust for value was surfacing close in the King's eyes.

"And I do not believe you. Such a long way to travel alone, and with barely any rations do you carry. How did you plan on returning, and should you have been successful, with another mouth to feed no less," Thranduil rose from his throne, violet robes brushing the floor as he stepped forward on agile feet. "Are there others waiting for your return, or did you think of other means to travel hastily?"

"In what way do you believe is hasty? You never set foot beyond your borders anymore."

He could see it took every bit of will that Thranduil could summon to refrain from lashing out at him. The elf was riled, but not without prudence as he stared hard at Smaug. "They send a clever human into my midst, this supposed family she has. What is your name?"

Smaug did not miss a beat. "Caladrieng."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "You must forgive me if there is any skepticism on my part to heed your word. In order to have an understanding of one another, each must be willing to put forth what the other holds back. I sense there is much you wish for me not to know."

"You obviously are the same, our only other similarity apart from Liliana."

"Ay yes, my son has informed me of her common name, which is not as common as one would hope for under the circumstances," Thranduil turned away, walking slowly to the edge of his Throne room while Smaug kept motionless with his wrists bound. "Let us not continue in this charade. I know why you are here, I had sensed your purpose the moment I was brought word of you. The importance of Lithuiaew cannot be disputed, and I was well prepared for someone to come searching for her, but not a man."

Smaug scoffed. "Do spare me. You do not believe I am some simple, common tub trader. How could I be?"

"Indeed not." The King admitted as he swiveled back around. "But it was not your sumptuous leathers, or your articulate mannerisms that gave you away. There was another matter that stirred a sense of familiarity about you in me, something else dark. Do you know what I speak of, Caladrieng?"

"Oh, please do share King of weeds. Is it my eyes that have charmed you?" Smaug sneered mockingly.

"But of course." Said Thranduil as he reached into his robe. He produced a dagger in his hand, the hilt white ivory with stenciled leaves while the blade shone glassy like a mirror. Smaug was prepared to endure any amount of pain for Lily, but he had no need to flinch back when the elf simply held the blade lengthwise before his face. He had an expectant expression, gesturing with his free hand at the artifact. "Look for yourself, and see in my sight."

Smaug did as was commanded, not guessing the King's purpose as he looked at the reflection of his eyes. The burning orbs flashed brightly back at him, two black pupils that held a deep stare, taking a hold on whomever he wished to capture with his gaze. Coincidently, his eyes were the only things that remained identical when he reverted to a man. Not slipping from his calm demeanor, he looked back at Thranduil questioningly. "I see what is always there."

"And what would that be Caladrieng," Thranduil patronized, taking back the knife in his tight grasp. "A scorching fire, one that has put fear in the hearts of all creatures, or a spell that wishes to deceive all who fall prey to it? You are no mere man, and you are no more a Phoenix than I am."

"I never confessed to be either." Said Smaug cryptically.

"No, but you have confessed little else." Thranduil signaled for his son, the soft patting of his footsteps approached as he strode gracefully across the stone floor. The King indicated for his son to take a hold on Smaug, and he did so with his Elvish strength, pulling Smaug down on to his knees with a tug.

The degrading position had Smaug silently seething, his shoulders squared even as the Prince kept a grip on him, not letting him up from the ground. Even in human form, Smaug doubted they could overpower him for long, but he refused to struggle despite his pride in wanting to shove the elf away. Thranduil's feet halted just before him, fitted into soft suede and tanned leather that Smaug had the pleasure to scrutinize in the close proximity. The King brandished the dagger, holding the blade against Smaug's sharp cheek as he looked down on him with contempt. "What colours do you bleed in I wonder?"

It would be only too easy for Smaug to take the dagger from him and deliver a devastating blow to both father and son, but the rest of the guards would get to Lily before he could make a break to her cell. A fire caught in his chest, and he gritted his teeth when he spoke. "You may find that out yourself."

A thin line of blood was released as Thranduil dragged the knife against his cheek, splitting apart the thin flesh like it was a crisp new envelope containing a letter inside. The clean blade became smeared with red blood, and the King appeared disappointed by what had been expelled. Smaug knew why. He was hoping to see green ichor, the blood of the dragon. Smaug could only recall the myrtle green substance being spilt from his body during days of battle, and long had it been since anything sharp had punctured his armor of gilded scales. He had known the blood would be crimson this time as much of the wounds he had sustained from his fall had exposed this miraculous change while still under roof in Lake Town.

The King wiped the blade clean against Smaug's sleeve in dismay, and he gestured with his head for his son to loosen his hold. "You may be disguised well as a man, but neither of us will pretend to believe it. Is it possible that the beast has aligned with another creature, sending you in his stead to retrieve his lost treasure? Perhaps you are unwillingly under his dragon-spell, but there is also a family in Esgaroth you speak of," Thranduil was speaking aloud more to himself rather then to Smaug or his son whom occupied the room with him. "Bring the girl to me." He ordered at his son while disregarding Smaug's place on the ground.

The Prince left, bowing respectfully before he went. Smaug continued to watch the pacing King with malice and a black heart. While he was anxious to see his Lily, he knew it was not out of the question for Thranduil to do something unrepentant. He wanted to see how they would interact together; a test of how much further Smaug could stretch the truth before they were both discovered. A distraction was needed, and Smaug smiled cruelly to himself as he thought of a most sensitive topic for the King. "Phoenix tears will not heal your scars. Time has surely preserved the burn, it permanently deforming you into something grotesque." He goaded.

Thranduil stopped so suddenly, that his spine went straighter than thread through a needle. "You dare insult me in my own halls with such objectionable words?"

His eyes flashed to Smaug's, dangerous and demented was he as his face grew with anger, darker than obsidian, and sharp from being weathered. Smaug could not look away from the present rage on the King's face, it filling him with delight even as a volcanic eruption was building up in the elf's collected visage. "Your screams were so loud that they could have shattered mortar and brick."

"How came you by this information. Was it the brazen wyrm who has kept you and Lithuiaew under his claw," Thranduil condescended as he placed himself back on his throne, looking down his nose at Smaug as he held his head high. "Are you a slave to the slugs' will, accommodating to his every whim? I confess you do not stink of dragon like the girl, but she is the kind one would wish to keep close, and his claws must have been impedingly tight around her for her to have sought escape. Her value has earned her a revered place in my halls."

"A cell, to be kept caged for you to exploit her gifts." Smaug retorted dryly.

"Better than in ruin, with a petty creature who cares for nothing but his own profit."

"And what of your precious gems of starlight that reside in those halls?" Smaug smirked triumphantly at how stony Thranduil's expression had become. "Those Oakenshield fools never returned to you those white jewels, but you would claim them as your own if possible. I have seen the true face of avarice, and the nature of those who try to conceal it. You cannot lie to me, Woodland King. The madness that drives you has made you slow, forgetful of things that you fear others have discovered."

"Do not speak to me of the Oakenshield name," He spat, hands poised on either armrest, clutching them hard beneath his strength as he pushed himself forward on the seat. "Miners and smelters, blacksmiths and stone masons. Their name and importance has been driven out from these lands since the calamity came. The one thing ever unchanging was the prosperity of others on this side of the world. Whether it was by dragon or dwarf, no wealth was shared from that mountain. No gold overflowing the Long Lake and down river. May the line of Durin suffer for their mistakes, and to those few of Erebor scattered across the corners of Middle-Earth, I say let them remain in cold and discomfort. They may carry their pain and loss just as the rest of us have for an age, for that is what happens to those who live much too large and beyond their own weight in worth."

A fondness for dwarves was something they both lacked, but Smaug felt no closer to the Elf King than he did to the line of Durin. Usurpers and scroungers' the lot of them. The King was quickly becoming belligerent, but the interruption of his son and Tauriel diffused the tension considerably. Lily stood nervously between them, though only her body conveyed her anxiousness. She had trained her face to show indifference, even while her eyes met with his from his place upon the ground. Smaug hated those elves for leaving him this way, not wanting for his Liliana to see him so weak and humanized before the feet of the King. The predicament was quickly rectified when he was nudged on the shoulder by the Prince, demanding silently for him to stand.

Smaug rose on his own accord to his feet, fighting the temptation to want to shake away the hand that the Prince had on him as he was the center of focus in the Throne room, Thranduil's eyes watching him to an undesired degree. The earlier activity of elves when first he had been brought inside had diminished considerably, though he did recognize the fair female elf Tauriel as she approached with Lily and the few elves charged with guarding the King. Smaug could not help but feel out of his element in their realm the longer he was present. Everything was green and alive, the air clean and woody as he breathed, filling his lungs with more oxygen that could extend the life of his flames if they were set free from his jaws. The layers of clothing on his body were constricting him of breath, and he had felt the heat continue to permeate his body since his eyes had met with Lily's across the floor of the entrance hall. She was the spark to his blaze, the perfect trigger to ignite the cooled furnaces in his chest. As he furthered in his progress as a man, he knew it would not take much for him to control a shift back to his true form, the magic already feeling familiar to his mind as he adapted to the change. Contact with Lily would be the sure-fire way of obtaining their freedom from the clutches of elves, and he would act upon it soon, now being the most opportune time before they would be separated indefinitely.

"I apologize with having you move about on your feet so often Lithuiaew, but my guest is being difficult, and perhaps you can shed some light as to why that is," Thranduil signalized with a wave of his hand to Smaug. "This man has come here with the intention of finding you."

Lily frowned, and she paused to look at Smaug with enough apathy to make him shudder. "Why?"

"Your apparent family in Esgaroth have put forth efforts to find you. This was unknown to me, for you failed to mention your life outside of the prison of the dragon."

Lily swallowed, her hands desperately reaching for each other, revealing her timid habit once again. That cruel detachment on her face melted away as she looked at Smaug, and his stomach was filled up with a sense of butterflies lethargically flapping about, contorting in a disarrayed flight pattern of a dance that he could not hope to stop them in. It was plain that Lily did not comprehend the truth of who he was, and the look of yearning directed at him was both gratifying and troublesome. He was simultaneously filled with lust for her and the concern that she could be filled with such longing for a stranger, even if unbeknownst to her that stranger was him. A need to control took hold, wanting to lord over her body with ownership, drawn at the thin line between hurt and euphoria. She left his spell all too soon to address the King.

"I did not think they would look for me, being ousted as the outsider for years, I assumed my absence would go unseen."

"Ah, the black sheep," Said Thranduil as his lips turned coyly into a ghost of a smile. "They know not of your greatness?"

Lily hesitated before answering. "No."

"And what of this trespasser? He seems to know you, all too well. Did he happen upon the mountain as your liberator, or should all of Middle-Earth be concerned that the dragon has found allies in men?"

"I have never been acquainted with him, nor do I recall another presence strutting about the mountain," Lily said with more honest naivety than one should have been able to muster. "Why would he know me?"

Thranduil's face twitched in a motion of irritation and impatience, the bones in his hand visible as he clenched it tightly into a fist, pulling the skin taut. "Aside his claims of knowing your family, he also knows you by the name of Liliana. I cannot throw aside reason and presume this as a coincidence, and by the look on your face, it leads me to believe I am correct in doing so."

"Who are you?" Lily spoke out of turn as she turned to Smaug, no comprehension of who he was.

He never wanted for her to look at him with that wariness again, so painful was it to his heart, crackling like a piece of hot coal in his chest cavity. Those blasted chains were shifting again, links from the tether unwinding, and bonding in other places as each beat was a struggle. He pondered over the idea of forever, what it meant in that moment, and how its value was increasingly growing in his mind. Lily's lost stares attacked him, like an onslaught of gale-force winds battering at his body as he tried to stand on his own two feet, helpless without the support of his tail or the spread of his wings. He was alone out on a great steppe, vulnerable from all sides, the enemies he had made in life closing in around him. Their faces were meshing together into one blank canvas, there for him to paint in the details of his foes. His roar was like the bellowing of a thousand horns at war, ripping apart the earth below his feet in jagged lines. The great crack in the earth threatened to swallow him, everything going black as he cascaded into the fissure, but it was his Lily who brought him back. Her eyes alight before him, and thoughts of her swam in his mind of how he fantasized about her innocence. His Lily of the Valley, White Jewel of his mountain and Phoenix to his dragon. It would always be her who brought him back.

"Who are you?" The reverie broke as she inquired of him again, his identity.

"I am Caladrieng," He forced her into a deep stare so that she might know his familiar eyes. "And I am yours to command."

He cherished the look of surprise that garnered on not only Lily's face, but of the elves encumbering them. He could never obey anyone, it was not in his nature to be complying, but he would act in accordance to what Liliana wished if it protected her. He was made slave by the need for her to survive. A guttural noise escaped through Lily's lips, throat constricted with the strangling of a gasp and a choke as she tried to speak. "But I do not know your face."

"Perhaps you do," Thranduil chose that time to interrupt, Smaug's eyes instantly were hardening in response. "You mentioned that your memories have been lost to you. Caladrieng is not ignorant to the matter of your race, Phoenix."

"I see." Said Lily in a small voice.

Thranduil rose from his throne, sweeping past Smaug as he approached Lily. The she-elf was watching her King keenly, also dangerously close to mistrust that gave cause for Smaug's anger to surface when he dared touch a hand to Lily's face. The fingers traced down to her jaw before he reached a lavender blonde lock that hung stubbornly in her face, clinging to her cheek. He felt it between the pads of his fingers, antagonizing slowly with his gesture all the while a dead stare was behind his eyes that held nothing wholesome. "Cry for me."

"I'm sorry?" Lily asked incredulously.

"Show me your tears Lithuiaew, or watch your Caladrieng suffer," He gave an order in Sindarin, and Smaug felt himself be surrounded by the guards, two forcing him down while an Elvish blade was held to his throat by the Prince. His instincts drove him to snarl and thrash about, but they only drove him deeper to the floor until he could taste the dust of stone. From the corner of his sight, he saw as Lily tried in vain to reach him, but she was held back by Tauriel, she herself who had a torn expression from the behavior displayed by her brethren. "What I ask is simple, give me your tears and I shall set him free."

Lily's conflicted emotions drove her to turn her head back and forth between the horrific hold they had on him on the ground, and the savage look on the King's face, driven by lunacy and desperation to have what he coveted for in pride and vanity. All of her begging and pleading meant nothing to the King, amidst her cries for help he indulged in the satisfaction that he held all of the power. "But I cannot just cry on will."

"You will if I command it." Thranduil retorted venomously.

Lily turned to Tauriel, distraught as she grabbed the she-elf by her clothed wrists, silently asking for her assistance. "Please, make it stop."

Tauriel's face turned apologetic, and Smaug saw red when the she-elf swung her opened palm into Lily's face. A loud slap resonated, and all fell silent while Lily stumbled from the impacting strength of the elf. Her face glowed from where the flat palm had made contact, swelling as it throbbed, and Lily's eyes welled with her crystalline tears. Tauriel held her by one arm wrapped around her shoulder, at odds with herself over what she had done for the greed of her King.

"Let him up," The King instructed, and Smaug felt himself be forced to his feet, the thunder in his chest threatening to tear him asunder as he pulled at the restraints of the elven binding. "You see Lithuiaew, I always keep to my word."

"May others be the same in their treatment of you," Lily said icily, and she abruptly shook herself free of Tauriel's embrace, the latter gladly letting her go so she could approach Smaug, steering clear of the King. Smaug felt his blood come alive under his skin as she stepped into him, paying little heed to the guards with their weapons drawn at the ready, awaiting the orders of their King. Thranduil made no mention of acting out against her, curiously watching amongst the rest as she delicately wiped her tears away from her left eye, holding up her hand to the Elf King. "These will never be yours."

Smaugs' nostrils flared and his eyes widened as Lily swiped her damp fingers across the thin gash on his cheek, the hot wetness blending with his blood and mending the cut until the stinging sensation went numb. For a moment their setting was forgotten to them, ignoring the elves encircling them at just a sidelong glance away. Lily's brown eyes, which felt so ordinary in contrast with the rest of her, glistened as she gazed at him with no restrictions holding back her emotions like the so many times before when he had gazed at her. What did she see in the face of this man that allowed her to break down her barriers that she otherwise held when in his presence as a dragon? Often he found that her petrified gaze would beat him down until he was nothing but a serpent in the grass.

With nimble fingers, she reached through the collar of her robes, unfastening a small clip inside the fabric before she brought forth something small in her palm. She was presenting him with one of his own treasures, a small ruby brooch he could recognize just as soon as he looked upon it. Her small hands worked quickly, stuffing it into the inside pocket of his coat. Her hands slowly brushed along his chest, leaving scorch marks like forest fire through the material of his tunic. This care she showed him now, unabashed and bold, made him relinquish logic, and he acted without constraint, grabbing her face between his bound hands, palms cupping her jaw on either side while he laid his lips upon hers. Liliana tensed under his gesture, mouth trembling between a distorted sense of weeping and arousal.

They were not connected long before he was pulled back by the guards and Lily to Tauriel's grasp. The carnal desires stirred in him once more, but he was left with no other stirrings except of disappointment for both the shortness of the warm embrace, and how he still was left in a state of dissonance when he did not revert back to his true self. His eyes sought Lily, and he was taken aback by the wounded look on her face as she sunk to her knees with struggled breath.

"Liliana." Tauriel said in concern, touching a hand to the cheek she had previously assaulted. She whispered sweet words, trying to coax Lily out of whatever trance had seized her.

She was breathing fast and hard, chest heaving as she panted at the air for any ounce of oxygen she could take in. A white explosion burst through the Throne room, everyone taking to shield their eyes behind the sleeves of their arms as the luminous waves shook the tranquility of the wood. A great wind went blustering through Smaug's hair, and he dared not steal a look at the room until everything had settled. When all was quiet and calm, Smaug lowered his arm from his face, taking in the sight of the destruction and ruin in the Throne room. The elves were also shaken up, blinking rapidly while they attempted to get back their bearings. Tauriel who had been on the ground with Lily, rolled over on to her side, becoming enamored in awe at what she saw, a sight that had also captured Smaug's attention. A most splendid creature, Lily had sprouted great wings of vermillion, standing on two thickly scaled legs of gold. The nimbus crown atop her feathered head was regal, and the length of her long body burned brightly like a precious garnet from his hoard. The brilliant gaze of the avion joined with Smaug's, and from deep within its golden eyes, he could see his Lily. The short, sharp beak of onyx cracked opened, the sanctity of her song washing over the wood, spilling between the stone walls and columns as they became bathed in the cry. Smaug felt his heart beat in time with hers as their connection ran deep, her true beauty exposed while his was locked away under enchantment. Her wings unfurled from her back, lifting to an impressive height that towered over their heads, and she fluttered off the ground, craning her neck to look at Thranduil as Smaug watched in dark satisfaction. The Elf King could only watch helplessly, not stumbling back fast enough on his feet before the Phoenix was upon him.


	12. And Truth

Thranduil let out an enraged cry as the sharp talons of Lily's claws went for his face. Something in her had awoken, whether it was from Caladriengs' abrupt kiss or another matter remained unclear, but she was much more confident with her transformation, and that found her to attacking the Elf King with brutal force. He was shielding his face on the ground, her claws tearing and pulling at the flesh on his arms through the delicate robes he adorned. The velvet fabric was clinging to her rose talons in a tattered mess, and she was screeching and cawing out her frustrations at him for having so pathetically locked her up in a cell. Now he knew what it meant to cage the bird with colourful feathers, her anger clear as she voiced herself through melodious song.

Like a streak of lightning, an arrow whizzed past her right wing, the guards now fully functioning behind her, ready for combat in order to defend their King. Her chance to escape was closing in at the present, otherwise she risked the chance of them capturing her once more for a subterranean dungeon, and they still had the leverage of Caladrieng to do that. She would not allow for an innocent stranger to suffer for her selfish actions. With one last powerful strike of her claw, she managed to catch Thranduil's other cheek, digging the honed ends deep into his flesh, like she was cutting into butter with an over sharpened blade. He howled an enraged cry of anguish, his blood leaking from the prominent lacerations on his cheek, a river overflowing down the slopes of his face like lava from a violent eruption. It pooled at his neck, and his eyes darkened as he tried in vain to slash at her with his dagger.

Lily let out her own call of pain suddenly, a wounded feeling at the juncture of her shoulder where her wing was attached. She had underestimated the skill of the Prince, and as she gazed back at him, his hands were folded over his bow with precision as the taut string had gone slack after his release. The arrow protruded at an angle, not sinking in deep, but just enough that the stone head of the arrow was completely embedded, making for a struggle when it had to be removed. He reached for another in his quiver, but Tauriel stopped him with a steady hand on his wrist, wrapping her fingers around him in a firm grip.

"Tend to your father, now," She ordered, her fiery hair swept wildly about as she eyed Lily's hovering form with vigilance. The other guards had their bows drawn again, but the she-elf commanded for them to cease in their attack as Legolas crossed the room to his wounded father, sprawled down on the ground beside his overturned throne. Tauriel stepped towards Caladrieng, whose eyes had not left Lily's form since her transformation, either transfixed by her vibrant plumage, or by the vicious onslaught on the King. Tauriel made her approach with considered steps and a plan of action, pulling out an Elvish dagger from her belt that caused Lily's eyes to flash in panic.

"Be still Liliana," Tauriel took a hold of him by the arm, slicing the bindings from his wrist's as a gesture of peace. She sheathed the dagger back in its scabbard right away, before holding up her hands in a surrendering motion. "We will not bring you harm."

Lily released another shrill bellow from her beak before swooping down and clasping her large talons around an unsuspecting Caladrieng. The leather of his coat prevented her from prodding him straight through the shoulders with her claws, though she eased her squeezing just for cautions sake. The Elves were chanting quickly in Sindarin below, and she saw many of the guards assembling as she flew up through the Woodland Palace overhead. The great gate would be the first place they would go to, but that was nothing for her to concern herself over. She rose higher up through the trees, no ceiling to stop her even as she struggled with the weight of carrying a full grown man. Her high spurt of energy that she had begun with was fading at an undesirably fast rate with every flap of her wings. She powered through the pain, the soft voices of the elves growing distant to her ears as she broke out through the lush canopy.

It was bright into the day, just past lunch time in civilized places as the sun hung high in the sky. Her eyes struggled to adjust to its radiant glare, though the heat traveled pleasantly through her preened feathers in waves of warmth. Each beat of her wings continued to grow feebler, much like a pendulum nearing its last swing. Her handle on Caladrieng was starting to give; his limp body straining under her grasp as he no doubt sensed her grip loosen. The height above which he had to fall was disconcerting, and she tried to fly as far away from the wood as she could, but the tangled boughs seemed endless from her vantage point, spreading vastly over the stretch of land before her sight in a sea of fern green, not crossable to those who dared defy it. She kept her sights ahead towards the peak of the Lonely Mountain, its tall tower the pinnacle she was desperate to reach, but the current of the leaves and branches had continued to pull her back down deep, twice as much as she had raised in the sky. She would not reach it. The tide of her efforts came in all too soon, swallowing her with a mighty force as her strength gave in. They were heading towards the earth at an alarmingly fast rate, crashing through a sparse patch of trees in the middle of the wood. Caladrieng slipped from her talons at the last moment before hitting the ground, and she folded her wings back, crashing to the forest floor with her chest first so the arrow would remain undisturbed in her back.

Everything had turned absolutely still in the fate before her, the thin skin of her eyelids drawing closed as she felt the heat of starlight enclose around her. Her limbs extended and her joints popped back into alignment, cracking and fusing in audible snaps. Her flesh prickled at the loss of her scales and feathers, the cool earth beneath her making every pale hair on her body stand on end like porcupine quills. Whimpers and shakes took control of her frame, rocking carelessly like a leaf as her hair was strewn into a mess around her face, like a bundle of curtain that fell free from the rod. Through the bulk of her feathers she had not felt the trickling of blood, but now she was all the more privy to it as it cascaded down between her should blades and down the trail of her spine. She was terrified to move from the pain it caused, though she had the modesty to praise Legolas and his aim with a bow. She knew he had purposefully struck to wound, but not to kill because of her value and rarity to the world. Should she cross his path again in time, she might not get to say the same of him twice.

A scuffle of footsteps approached from her right, and she tensed, legs kicking through the leaves as she tried to push herself up to shelter herself from the intruder. Her ears noted the heaviness of the step, and how far apart the gait was, concluding him as a tall man. He was about to see her a mess, but she clung to what little humility she had left, baring her teeth as she spoke with hostility through her cracking lips. "Do not come any closer stranger."

"Foolish girl, it must be taken out," Caladrieng responded back through the dark with impatience. Even as she could not make out his face, too ashamed to look back at him, she could feel his presence. Each step brought him closer, and her back heated in the direction he came from until the leaves scattered around her when disturbed by his arrival. His close proximity burned her, and she shrank away from his touch when he placed his palm flat against her shoulder, close to her wound. His fingers were lengthy, and she noted how rough and warm his skin felt to her frigid form. His other arm came around her side, hugging her around her waist as he pulled her to his chest with a curt tug. The leather of his coat rubbing up on her bare skin made her all the more aware of her nude state, but the agony in her shoulder kept her from feeling any amount of self-consciousness. He maneuvered them so she was sitting between his legs, and he swept her hair over her opposite shoulder with coaxing fingers that allowed the tension to ooze forth from her body. She was alert to where his hand was at all times, and she sucked in a breath when he reached the arrow, no doubt making a mess of himself with her blood. Her grip came down on his arm situated around her waist, squeezing in anticipation for the pain. "Be still Lily."

Just as she registered the sound of her name coming from his velvety voice, he pulled the offending dart from her shoulder. A strangled cry flew out uncontained from her mouth, and her body sunk back into his with a sigh. Spurts of blood were now pouring from her shoulder, as were tears from her eyes, though she was grateful for the latter. Caladrieng did not hesitate in collecting the dampness with his thumb from the rivulets of tears flowing down her cheeks. The poignant wound stung as she felt the skin and muscle mold back slowly into place as he touched the magical essence to the wound. Her pale back was stricken stiff and bloody, and she moaned in misery, retracting her hold on Caladriengs' arm even when he refused to let her body go. Exhaustion was imminent, her human body not sharing in the same strength as her Phoenix. She was proud of being able to carry his weight away, liberating them from the realm of the wood elves. They would not be safe in that patch of trees for long, but in a moments rest, her eyes shut without care.

She could not have dozed for more than a minute before her eyes snapped opened in the dark with a scare. An invading nose was nuzzling her hair, and a foreign hand was tracing the outline of her hipbone. Caladrieng must have felt her sudden shift, because he held on tighter while releasing a purring growl close to her ear. "Do not leave so soon Liliana, I prefer to have you close. You must be freezing the way you are."

"Then might a proper gentleman give a lady his coat?" She snapped, not amused by his invasive caresses. She'd had enough of those from Thranduil, and she would not put up with the markings of an individual still unknown to her mind. She also suspected some sign of trickery from him, and she would have the truth after the lengths she went to, to save his life.

His chest rumbled in a deep chuckle, unreleased from his lips while he drew back on his hold. His cotton tunic brushed up against the skin of her back as she heard the rustling of leather fabric. He liberated himself from the coat, draping it around her shoulders as he asked silently for her to lift her arms up with a tap of his hand. She followed his lead while he dressed her, assisting in sliding her twig-like arms through the sleeves. It made her feel very much like a child with the way he went about the task, and their difference in size was also off-putting. Once the heavy material hung over her shoulders, his hands went around her to the large black buttons at the front. "Let me help you."

"I can do that myself." She replied indignantly while trying to swat his hands away. "I'm not daft; I just saved your life."

Something in her tone must have amused him greatly, because he chuckled again while his hands were unrelenting in fastening the coat around her. "I insist for the sake of being courteous."

"Your courtesy I could do without, thank you." He barely finished working the last button into its slit before she shot up from the ground and away from him. She was covered to her knees in thick leather, the smell new, and the skin of its hide showing no cracks or weathering. She knew it was from Lake Town, so she presumed the mentioning of her family was sincere, but it was not the first time she was skeptical to believe a man on his word alone. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him, hoping to intimidate. The desired effect would not take, for he simply smiled coyly back at her. Something about her disheveled hair and the large sleeves hiding most of her hands in the material must have looked far more innocent than frightening to him. She tapped her naked foot in the mud, a wet sound reverberated each time,  _smack smack smack,_  while she gave him a measured look. "You are a liar."

"Am I?" He feigned surprised, crossing his feet at the ankles as he remained seated on the ground, choosing to look up at her. "Remind me when I was untruthful towards you. From my part, my intentions were enacted for your well-being."

"But I saw you." She defended ruefully. It did the trick in silencing him, for his mouth turned into a thin line and his eyes lost the mirthful look from a moment ago, now resembling a wise and old creature in a man's body. He chose not to interrupt her, instead waiting patiently for her to elaborate on the meaning of what she had blurted out between them. "I saw you . . . in Lake Town. I was there, but not really. You were in some kind of pain, and I could not help you. It was like falling into a dream, where I could see everything, but in the end I was powerless," She ran a shaky hand through her parted hair on her shoulder. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I believe some of your story."

"Some, but not all," He said idly while standing. He advanced towards her with harmless steps, though she hardly thought there was anything about him that was innocent. "Clever of you, but then why would you give me this?" He turned the collar of his tunic out, revealing the jeweled brooch that she had previously pocketed into his coat in Thranduil's Throne room. She searched the coat on her body in shock, not even sure when he had taken it back. It must have been before he draped the coat on her shoulders. "I have no doubt this is valuable, so where did you obtain such a treasure?"

"It pains me greatly to say this, but I suspect the Elf King was right in presuming you have some connection with the dragon and his mountain," She took a step back as he towered over her with his smoldering eyes, two molten rocks digging into her with intruding fascination. "We share connections, and odd things have continued to occur since I saw your face on that boardwalk."

"And was this to be some recompense made out from you?" He carried the voice of insult, his hot breath pouring over her like smoke while his outrage grew.

"No. I wanted you to return that to the mountain. It wasn't doing any good just sitting in my sleeve, and it wouldn't have felt right to keep it, not when Smaug knows every piece of treasure in his hoard."

Caladriengs eyes did funny things when she uttered the dragon's name. It was not innocuous fear like the so many other men who cowered from the title of the calamity. He was without fear, only arrogance and pride burned in his heart, and Lily wondered why she still felt aroused by such a callous example of a man. As sure as the sun would rise and the tides would come, she knew of her feelings, for the heat that built in the juncture between her thighs was more than palpable to the wood. She was dirtied by it, and betrayal also stemmed from that guilt.

"If what you say is true, and I am only a slave to your dragon's will, what would he have felt when I returned to his mountain without you?" Caladrieng leaned into her until she was forced back against a thick trunk of a tree, the black bark scrapping against the soft material of the coat while her hands grabbed at the wood with her fingertips. Up close he smelt of grassfire and leather, his dark hair shining as if it had been oiled, and his face gave away nothing to what emotion was building in him. The sheer material of the tunic billowed out from his body, and through the loose ties at the collar, the top of his chest was visible. Lily hated for having her feelings, not wanting them for this man, or for any other. She was petrified; of him, his size and presence, and worst of all, the lusty look on his face he continued to give her. "Would he have swallowed me whole, or burnt me to cinders?"

"I don't think he would like being called my dragon, and I certainly don't know what he would be feeling," She pushed herself up along the bark of the tree, angling her neck up to look him in the eye while standing on the tips of her toes in attempt to match his height. "I suspect anger, and a sense of loss. Isn't that what anyone feels when they lose a possession?"

She couldn't explain why, but a mixture of annoyance and disappointment passed over his face as she said that. "You believe you were a possession, and nothing more to him?"

"I'd rather not discuss the nature of what my time in the mountain meant to either of us. You aren't going to stop me from figuring out your lies. How do you know my name, and what I truly am?" In a bold act entirely not her own, she put her two hands to the center of his chest and shoved a little. Both of them appear surprised at the feat of strength she was able to summon, him having stumbled back a step while she fell forward from the tree. Perhaps he had let her overpower him, but the eloquent look of shock was not difficult to surmise. "I—I want you to tell me! Do you truly know my family, or was that a lie as well?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Quite a little monster you are, demanding answers from me."

"You said you were mine to command, and I am commanding you to tell me what I wish to know," She nodded her head firmly, scarcely believing the daring words flowing from her mouth. "Answer me Caladrieng."

"I met with your brothers, but I did not go out on errand for them to find you. The Bargeman and his son brought me down river and I made my way to the woods from there."

Lily frowned in bemusement at the mention of the Bargeman. She recalled Gaellyn being friends with the son, but why would they choose to help a stranger. "Bard and his father helped you?"

"Do not seem so surprised, they are quite the outsiders themselves, and they would do anything for a dime," Caladrieng stated brusquely. "And I know your name because I heard you calling."

"But I wasn't calling for you, I was—" She cut off her own words, glowering at him suspiciously. "I don't understand. How did you know where I was?"

"I saw as the elves took you away, stealing you from me in their halls. I was there with you in that damp cell, and when that filthy Elf King laid his hands upon you," He snarled out somewhat savagely, and he took a menacing step forward, her getting quickly lost somewhere between him and the tree. His hands were like claws as they gripped at her shoulders, brushing down to hold her arms as he held her back against the bark. The coal black of his pupils sent a flare of heat between her legs that she could not discern. "You are no fool, my Lily. Explain to me, what you in your mind, already know is the truth."

"You kissed me in the Throne room. Why?" She steadied her breathing, blocking out the thoughts she refused to let surface, as asinine as they were. She could not think them, and she would not utter them.

"I wanted to seal our connection. Everything has returned to silence since I have, but it was also in the hopes that you could fix what I have become," He deeply inhaled the air around them, taking in what she could not hide. "I arouse you."

Even the darkness could not hide the brilliance of the pink flush that broke out across her face. "No." She denied.

"You cannot lie to me. I can taste the truth in the air and smell it on your skin. Even as I am now, my senses have not been dulled enough for you to hide this from me." As he described her arousal to her, she noted the spiteful tone colouring his voice, as if he despised the actuality of her attraction to him. In her confusion, she blindly reached for him with her words.

"What did you mean by, what you have become?" She quivered as the strength in his grip on her upper arms tightened, but she did not break under the weight of his stare.

"You know in your heart of what I speak. You might have guessed it the moment we saw each other across the floor of the Woodland Palace." She sucked in a breath as he leaned forward until they were touching, chest meeting chest while his mouth came close to the shell of her ear, breathing hot spurts of air that warmed her neck. "Say it Lily, say my name."

"No." She still refused him, terrified she would hate herself for her feelings once the truth was said. He would not be appeased until she revealed it for them both, and she let out a cry as he filled his left hand with her pale hair, pulling back until her neck was exposed in a sign of submission. She trembled as his nose trailed the tender flesh of the column of her neck, tongue flicking out to lick at her sweat and blood, the proof of her efforts from the escape. "Now is not the time for your timid behavior. What little patience I have grows thin, come now and say what I wish to hear fall from your lips."

His deep voice rumbled through her as he spoke against her skin, and she shuddered as a tear was lost from her eye. " . . . Smaug," Her hair tumbled down her back as he released the pile of blonde lavender he had been holding. His other hand dropped from her arm, both clasping at her waist as he pulled back to observe her woeful face. Her eyes closed as he kissed away the tear from her cheek, the curve of his lips lowered to her face all too much for her to bear witness to. "No."

"Yes, Liliana." He clasped her hands in his own, bringing them to his chest as she felt the strength of his heart beating beneath the broad surface. He relented on his grip, letting his hands fall to his sides while her eyes opened with his silent permission for her to explore him. She could not look him in the eye, the amber rings all too familiar to her, causing hot stirrings in her gut that nearly vanquished the fluttered feelings of arousal. Slowly her hands glided up and down the plains of his torso, from stomach to chest as the loose tunic collected between her fingers like sand. Her hands than went to his arms, starting from the wrists and traveling up to the defined shoulders, his muscles tensing under her feather touch. The cords of his neck muscles strained as her hands wrapped around either side, though her fingers were not long enough to completely wrap around in one harmonious loop. She cupped his face with her hands, stiffening under his heavy stare while she felt the angular contours of his cheeks, thumb brushing over his lips that were still damp in the center from her tear. She let her hands fall, wishing she could step away if it weren't for the tree blocking her path. If she moved anymore, it would likely swallow her up into the trunk. It did not register to her, the look of dejection on Smaug's face that he buried quickly when her hands had left him.

"You're soft, just like the rest of us," She said in innocent observation. "Why has this happened to you?"

"Because of our bond, I suspect. It is for the same reason you transformed when I kissed you. The magic to shift is within us, but we have both failed to establish the ability, and hone the skill to command the change. Pure, raw emotions will not be enough anymore."

"So you will not try to kiss me again?" She inquired quietly.

Smaug frowned, taking a step away from her so she could breathe her own air once more. He mistook her question for one of disgust, but Lily was not able to distinguish his reading either and both were locked in a misunderstanding. "You have my word, I will cease with any physical advances towards you. Your attraction was built around a ruse, and the power of the connection we have formed. Do not get lost in a misinterpretation Lily, it was the pull of curiosity, and nothing more."

"Alright," She feigned relief, biting the inside of her cheek to quell the hurt in her chest, and in a moment without thought, she stepped back towards him, tentatively wrapping her hands behind his neck in an embrace. "You promised you would find me, and I never doubted you."

"I have never lost what is mine." Said Smaug, his arms barely touching her as he wrapped them around her waist. For a moment in her mind, he was a Dragon again, and her the Phoenix, wrapped in the silhouette of his magnificence as he brought the flexed hide of his wings around her feathered form. They rose up high in flight, the sun burning out the image of them floating above together until the earth could not recall them to its plains. Smaug shattered her trance by stepping away, an emotionless look radiating from his face as he let her go. Lily respected him by taking a step away, concluding that he was through with her caresses now that everything was exposed. He was not looking in her direction now, a faraway look in his eyes as he searched out through the darkness of the trees, listening keenly. "We shall make our way to the Celduin. Without the provisions I was given, and with no way of knowing how to revert back, we must hope for another boat to make passage across the river. Come Lily."

She gave a start at his curt tone, nonetheless complying as she followed after him. The more they walked, the more she winced as her feet would step on the odd stone or twig, but she kept her pace at his side, trudging behind in the hope that it would not come to his attention. This only went on for a little while, because of course he noticed everything, and he let out a haggard sigh, stopping abruptly as she ran into his solid back with an  _oof!_

"Oh I'm sorry," She apologized, their relationship quickly falling back into him as the jailor, and her the prisoner. It was baffling, but he felt all the more dragon now than he had the past weeks of her stay in the Lonely Mountain. Everything she thought to say to him only came to her as fruitless, and she refrained from speaking any of those things, not wanting to anger him further. "We can keep going."

Smaug blew out an irritated breath. "No, you won't get much further like that," He bent at his knees and held his arms back. "Climb on to my back, we will cover more ground if I carry you."

She didn't hesitate to obey him, leaping up off her sore feet and on to his back in one swift motion. He looped his arms around her knees, adjusting her steady while she wrapped her hands around the front of his shoulders to his collarbone. Her fantasies had always been of riding his back as dragon, but this was probably as close as she would come to fulfilling that wish, and she wouldn't complain about the closeness. He straightened out his body, legs growing accustomed to her added weight on his back before he started walking again. Lily buried her face into the back of his neck, the ends of his dark hair at the nape tickling her nose as she inhaled his deep and heady smoke scent. She wanted to kiss him again, whisper sweet nothings at each other while he held her against his sweltering body, but it was clear that he didn't want her for anything other than to complete his mountain hoard, and so she would have to stop those thoughts. If her place wasn't with him or among humans, than it had to exist in the sky, for the moment the one place that eluded her. When her true self was restored to her, she would fly until she couldn't bring her wings to beat anymore, her feathers cutting through air, and the horizon welcoming her home as the sun transformed into the moon.


	13. And Choice

Smaug let his ears lead them to the sound of rushing water, keeping to the path as straight as he could go with Lily astride his back. His circulating thoughts were of one thing, all pertaining to the girl he was carrying. It somehow was logical to do the same for her in return after she had flown his weight out from the halls of the wood elves, and she wasn't much at all for him to handle. In human form, it also brought into perspective how much older he looked beside her, how fair and virtuous she still was, and by the grace of the Valar if it did not fan the flames of his lust more in wanting to possess her body. He needed to stop, but his focus for her was like the current of a river, it could not be prevented by any partition he built up, nor would the winds bring about the change he was looking for.

The day was breaking late, not quite lapsing into evening as the sun hung low in the sky. What darkness the wood casted was nearly behind them; the branches thinning out a path while the wandering eyes of the forest were put behind their stride. He had seen bulbous eyes, and the flutters of wings high and low, the skittering of feet running hastily about at length after them that he dare not give thought to. Such creatures and wicked things were skulking in the shadows, and though the wood appeared to be deathless, it was all the same dying. A start of a new change in the world, such things he did not often observe from his lair. Though it had been forty years spent at rest, he did not forget the way things had once been. Nothing was certain to denote to his skeptical mind, but he felt there was less in the world, the air not as revitalizing on his face, and the water not as restoring when drunk. Is this the life a mortal led, so banal and uninspiring? He thought he might snap under the thought of such an existence, as humanizing as it was.

Smaug felt the skin of his face warm from the spots of sunlight now spilling through at the edge of the wood. They were at their end, coming to the line of trees before it broke away into uneven slopes of short grass and stones. The booming river was not far, and already he felt allayed by the few steps taken away from the borders of the elves. He shifted his arms, jostling Lily around on his back while his knees were silently supplicating for him to take a moments rest. The notion of weakness was unappealing to him, and he did not want to disturb Lily. She had not spoken to him since he demanded for her to take his assistance and climb atop his back. The grip of her arms enveloping his shoulders had slackened considerably, and she had kept her nose buried in the nape of his neck, not making a peep save for the puffs of breath. In his forwardness, he was not ashamed to say the contact was pleasing, and that the heat she created spread from his neck and down the rest of his body, causing a hot sweat of desire that had not yet drenched through his garments.

He modified his stance again, for an entirely different reason than before, and he cursed his dragons' virility, the one thing he did not require that had come with this new body, regardless of his protest for it. Lily moved of her own accord, causing him to jerk while the tip of her warm nose left its snug spot against his neck. The touch was instantly missed by him, but she rested her chin down on his right shoulder, lips close to his ear while her hands tightened at the apex of his chest. "You can set me down now. I think I can handle the grass a bit better."

"Of course." He said stoically, loosening his hold around her knees as she awkwardly leapt down off him. His back felt naked without her cloaked around him, but he rolled his shoulders and fought off the empty feeling. He started forward, Lily skipping to catch up at his side as she kept her eyes on anything but him now. The sorrowful look on her face caused him to feel perplexed as it seemed misplaced to be there. She displayed no sign of discomfort from neither her healed wound nor exhaustion, just utter gloom. If it was any consolation, he too had been brooding darkly to himself, despondent from their somber reunion. He was outraged by how she had quietly slighted him. Her arousal had been discernible through her countenance, only to have it suddenly shift when she became aware of the truth. How dare she be repulsed by him; the last and greatest of his kind. Her survival and protection came at his hands, and her sweet smile had been enough to fool him into believing she was grateful for him as her savior. Deceitful traitor, anything she had ever shared with him in that mountain had been lies, and she would not affect him again.

His emotions continued to suffocate him, for as much as he desired to create distance between them; he also knew he could not let her go. The black thoughts had come again, and the idea took root in his mind that she was perhaps yearning for a mate, though was lost on how to begin. He could recall that her self-consciousness stemmed from others viewing her as physically odd and unattractive, and that it had made her emotionally sequestered to the opposite gender. Perhaps the idea of being with a man no longer appealed to her, and he had likely terrified her with his invasive caresses. Guilt tore at him for that. There were no others of her kind, and he did not know of her inkling towards the idea of mating with a human. He had enough respect not to ask her, but regardless of that, none would be able to touch her but him if she ever decided otherwise. He would not have her dirtied by a lesser beings essence inside her, and his anger ticked hot at the idea until he grew irate. The malice on his tongue tasted awful and bitter, and he stopped abruptly as they came to a ridge up from the river. The Celduin was not far, only a distance of down and across, but he could not take one more step with the burden he was now carrying in his heart. The physical weight of Lily was far lighter to support than the heavy load she caused in his chest. He breathed hard, uncaring if she heard the abrasiveness in his breaths.

"We're stopping," He said with finality, dropping down to the ground while he held his head in his hands, tugging at his hair slightly to channel his rage into sleep. "You should rest."

"Why?" The audacity of her question caused him to drop his hands, inclining his neck back up to look at her. Lily stood defiantly, her expression no longer miserable, but rather painted in aggression as if she was preparing to lunge. He prayed her strike would be deliberate if she chose to do so, but his vexation for her abrupt anger piqued his curiosity. Her tiny nose scrunched in hostility was hopelessly endearing, and one strong gust of wind would likely knock her clean off her feet too.

"I apologize if I am curt, but that sounded suspiciously like you were questioning me."

"I am. I have no need to rest, for I am not tired," She declared affronted, even when it was quite clear signs of fatigue had taken over her. "I would think you would be in a hurry to return to your mountain, all of that precious gold laying unattended, ripe for the picking. Aren't you with fear that someone could take it, or does that only pertain to me now?"

Her tone had him standing immediately, and he was granted a small amount of satisfaction as she cowered slightly from his gaze which he narrowed into black slits. "Do not be so hostile Liliana, it includes you, as you should be well aware of my attachment towards you by now."

"Yes, and I'm so honored," She bit out spitefully, spinning on her heel to turn towards the skyline with her arms crossed together. He still found her ridiculous in his large coat, but the significance of that detail was menial, and he pushed it aside as he pondered the new emotions she was showing. The breeze tousled her hair from her shoulders, the long strands tangling down her back in ropes of pale lavender, and he was reminded of the satin locks when he had held them in his hand. She was so unattainable to him, that it caused him to bleed in grief. "I refuse to be just another treasure to be kept polished on a pedestal. Though it has been brief, I know the taste of freedom, the blessing that my gifts can give me, and I can't be kept in a cage. I—I'll leave you if it comes to that."

Smaug felt his heart cease violently in his chest, like an intense storm brought to a standstill before its last breath of wind, and spit of rain. He had pushed her away unintentionally with his imperious behavior, when his first intentions had been to bring her home to him. Home. Calling his mountain such a name had not occurred to him until he thought of including Lily with him. Yes, he loved his hoard, boasted about how he could picture every piece in his sleep, and often he praised and cooed to it quietly with a gleam of infatuation in his eyes. When had it not become enough? Not until Lily had appeared on his doorstep it would seem. He could never be without treasure, such was the way of dragons, but he knew he could not be without his Lily either. Was this loneliness? He was all that remained, the remnant of a breed that had long died out in the passing of ages, and so too was Lily the last grain of sand in the hourglass of her kind. They were meant to stay together through the fire and darkness, survive through the light and water as it cleansed the land of evil until her last burning day. Then he would succumb to death, utterly spent from time, and the weariness of facing an existence without her.

"I will not let you leave me Lily. There is nowhere you would go that I would not find you," While it caused the dull pain to linger in his heart, he held off from gathering her to him in his arms. "I would leave my mountain; tear apart villages and desiccate the land until you were with me. No keep of men or realm of elves could hide you without my knowing."

She gazed at him with a look of outrage. "You dragons really are the most selfish creatures, no matter how you try to dress it up," She gestured to him with the flick of her wrist before she settled with her arms at her sides. "Even if I was completely miserable, you would force me in a cage, and that makes you no better than Lord Thranduil."

The burgeoning anger rose up in his throat, but without his fire he could only summon a growl, while grabbing her by the leather lapels of his coat that was dwarfing her frame. Her eyes widened in shock, and her hands came out to claw back, nails grating through his tunic at his chest as she attempted to push away from him. That all stopped when he wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand holding her head to his shoulder with his fingers laced through her hair. She warbled a sigh of defeat into the crook of his neck, while his lips descended to her ear, hissing out acerbic words with his tongue. "I will never be anything less than perfection, and the scars that riddle the filthy Elf King show the truth of my powers to those foolish enough to question my might. It is dangerous to give a dragon great insult, and you will find you might not like my punishment."

Lily whimpered into him, such a delicate sound to his ears. "You have hurt me enough."

"And you have hurt me in return," In that knowledge, he loosened his hold, the enmity between them diffused from the air as she studied him in bewilderment. He could not meet her stare, or rather refused to, to avoid as being caught emotionally compromised. "Get some rest Lily."

He tried to step away, but a calm Lily was also at her most ardent, and she latched a cool hand on to his wrist. One might have thought steam would have risen from his flesh with their variation in body heat meeting together, but he reminded himself that she was only reborn by the flame, not bred in it as he was. "How have I hurt you?"

His walls were built back up in order to defer her from discovering his emotions, but Lily was adamant, her grip relentless on him. He was certain it would not take any amount of strength from him to shake it off, but to do so seemed cruel, and he was all out of acts of barbarity towards her. As his rage had faded away, Lily's did also, and the realization of that made him feel mindless for having not realized sooner the cause. "Forgive me Lily, for I did not understand until now."

"Understand what?" She took a step closer, hand still linked to him as she went.

"It seems our connection runs deeper than either of us has comprehended, and the amount of anger I was feeling also resettled in you," Lily frowned, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. He heaved a sigh, pondering how he could explain in a way that would make her see the truth. "As a dragon, my emotions are strong, amplified to a degree that you would be unaccustomed to, and you were able to get a sense of them through me. It was my mistake because I had opened my mind completely to yours through the bond, but that is no excuse. We must be careful in the future, for our emotions can rule us if we do not tread lightly."

The theory caused her to look petrified. "So then how can I infer which emotions are yours between my own?"

"It will not happen if your mind is disciplined and your emotions controlled, but should that guard ever fail, put faith in yourself, and trust what you know is the truth. An obvious example; I doubt you have ever felt such strong fury within yourself until today."

She turned sheepish, a wry smile on her lips. "I suppose you're right. I am sorry if I was wicked towards you."

"No," He stated with a forlorn frown. "The fault is mine. My wrath could cause you to go mad, it would destroy you Lily. It is only for my black heart to bear, and I will try to keep it from you if I can wield it."

"I believe in you," Words of that nature were unlike anything he had ever heard uttered in reference to him, and it brought a salvation in his chest as she gazed at him earnestly. "What was the hurt I caused?"

Her thumb was mapping out the skin of his wrist, tracing in slow circles in an absentminded action that caused him to growl low in his throat, and his pulse to hasten. If the idea of him as a human repelled her, she would not have continued to seek his touch, and it made him aware that perhaps he had misread her feelings, at least where he was concerned. Their emotions had been running high after their escape, and their reunion so abrupt that perhaps she had not been dismayed by his reveal as he had prematurely assumed. "A misunderstanding as it turns out. We must hold tight to each other Lily, for we have no other in this world we can trust."

"If that is your way of pleading for me to stay, then I will, but I cannot be commanded to a prison. It is my choice to stay, not for the value of treasure, or because it was demanded of me. I'm lonely, and as far as my memories go back, I've always been lonely, until finding you. You understand me, and can teach me things that no one else in the world has the knowledge of, and I can't help but think there isn't a place left in Middle-Earth for me to be except by your side," The dragons pride in him swelled to inexorable heights, and he wanted to pull her roughly to him, capture her body with his until she cried with blissful pleasure and pain that only he could grant. Lily had her own special powers when going about everything, and he marveled at the chastity of her kiss as she stepped into him to lay her lips gently down upon his. He wanted to return the gesture with his animalistic passion, but he couldn't bring himself to tarnish what she had so beautifully gifted upon him in blind faith. He closed his eyes, letting the moment last a little while longer, only to wish for it to be never-ending when her hand finally dropped from his wrist. She hummed pleasantly while pulling back from him, a tender look in her eyes that was combined with frustration. "I thought maybe it would help you shift back."

He struggled to think for a moment, certain his irises would only be two thin rings of fire around his dilated pupils now that his body was adapted to hers. "I don't believe that to be our answer," As pleasant and wanted as it was, but he did not mention that. "After your burning day, I believe you unintentionally fused this connection between us with your kiss. I completed it, back in the Throne room today. Only I shifted the first time, and you in return just now."

"But I had to shift in order to leave the mountain." She reminded him of the one detail that had landed them into the mess they were now currently facing.

"Yes, but after your burning day, your instincts were strong because you had only just become aware of what you were," He justified. "We have no evidence saying otherwise, and you have not been able to shift on command since then, and nor have I."

"Why a kiss then, to form the bond I mean?" She started to fuss with the buttons on the coat with anxious fingers, and for a moment he was tempted to reach out and stop her from doing so, but he knew he would have to build her confidence up slowly, otherwise he ran the risk of coming across as overbearing, and so he let her fingers continue to fiddle.

"Your kind is resurrected of ashes, as is hope resurrected from love, and a phoenix embodies that. At a time, it was more likely something shared between two of your own race, but now you are all that remains and you mistakenly bonded with me, a creature entirely different from your own species."

"We can't be all that different," Lily contended. "If my instincts formed this connection without my knowing, than there must be some similarities we share that unconsciously drew me to you."

He assumed that was her naivety talking, because he couldn't help but think they were completely opposite in nearly every way imaginable. She was lightness, hope and wholesome love wrapped in brightly coloured feathers. He was darkness, decay and hatred, encumbered in rich armor while his body was an arsenal of death. But then . . . she had withstood his fire. Her tears could scour away what ruin he brought; even the Elf King had fathomed that miracle. Perhaps there was more her innocent mind could see than his inveterate one would allow. Two unique creatures, the last of their respective races, brought together in a fragile time. It would be witless of him not to take their meeting as a sign from a higher power, and though he never believed in such frivolous notions, for once he was willing to forgo his stubbornness and fall prey to the ludicrous.

"Perhaps," He finally agreed, only to notice he was speaking to himself because Lily had wandered off to the edge of the ridge while he had been left pondering. She was clasping the coat tight around her neck, the sunset casting her shadow long against the grass while she peered over the small cliff. His breath caught in frantic panic, and he blazed over to her in his long stride. She yelped in surprise as he wrapped a secure arm around her waist, lifting her up and pulling her back before she could pitch herself over the ledge—or at least that was what he imagined she was going to do. He spun her around in his hold, grasping the sides of her face with his large hands while shooting her a reproachful look. "What were you trying to accomplish Lily?"

She surprised him as she let out a giggle, hands coming up to his as she gently peeled them away from her face, and rubbing them soothingly in return. "What, were you afraid I was so sick of you already that I'd throw myself over a cliff?"

He grumbled, not liking the playful teasing in her voice when he had been brimming with real concern. "I had not realized you had left me."

"You're easily distracted," Lily said simply with a shrug. "And to answer your question, I was pondering whether or not a sudden leap would cause me to shift. I was high above in the mountain for the first time, ready to leap for the exit when it happened."

He felt horrified by this news, reaching for her hand again so she would not slip away, or worse jump from the ridge. Her impulsiveness was no doubt the result of living a life with two active brothers. He could imagine her legs hurdling from one post to another as she ran through the lodging town, having no appreciation for rules as he had been made privy to the first day she had spent in his mountain. She squeezed his hand to break his musing, reassuring him with a smile that she wasn't about to do so again, and obviously he had made more of a fuss than desired, and he was left mortified for himself with that response. Wanting to get away from his embarrassment, he forced an impassive look while giving her hand a small tug. "Come, we should rest awhile."

Lily nodded, following him back to a large boulder that sat in the middle of the sparse stretch of land, looking like a small summit that they could take refuge against, and that is exactly what they did. They sat up with their backs rested against the smooth stone, Smaug keeping an arm around her waist while his hand settled on her hip in a fitted hold. Through the supple leather he could feel her tense, and she had her hands folded together in her lap, keeping them to herself with her eyes downcast. He kept his expression neutral, though he had a hunch as to what she was feeling. "I make you nervous?"

Her head shot up in a start, though she could not hold eye contact for long before she was looking elsewhere, be it his clothing or the skyline. "No, well—yes I suppose. I've just . . . never been good with talking to people, mostly because they have always ignored me."

Everyone but her brothers, and maybe Bard, but he wanted to delay that conversation for another time, selfishly claiming this moment as theirs. "Yes, but Lily, you know who I am, and we have shared in our own conversations in the past. You are not easy for me to ignore."

"I know, and this is completely ridiculous, but it was easier for me when you were your true self. I would rather face a dragon than a human; that must sound silly," She hid her face behind her hands, mumbling little noises that he could not discern. He could not stave off the laugh that came to him because of her reasoning, and he chuckled aloud at how fetching her unusualness was to him. Lily brought her hands away to scowl at him, but he did not lose the feeling in his chest. "I'm amusing to you am I?"

"Yes my Lily, but in a way I have not felt before." He nuzzled her affectionately on the head with his nose, placing a quick kiss in her hair before he started to retract his hold on her waist. Something prevented him; nimble fingers clawing at his own in tight desperation. It was Lily.

"I'm cold, and you are still much warmer than I could ever be," She said, and he noticed that her exposed legs were shivering from gooseflesh. He kept his arm where it was, pulling her in closer to meld at his side while she rested her head under his chin, and against his shoulder. She whispered something else under her breath, something he was sure he was not supposed to hear, yet he goaded her into repeating herself, giving her a nudge forward into unfamiliar territory where she was forced to have her voice heard.

"What did you say?"

She cleared her throat, pulling back enough to look at him with all the seriousness of a wise old king. "I like when you touch me."

Her anxiousness as she waited for his response was visible and he let out a pleasured rumble, one he knew would ease her apprehension. "Never let anyone call you Lithuiaew again. You are only Liliana." She silently agreed with a kiss to his neck as she returned to resting against him. A fire was in his head, and he would not know rest that evening as he took to keeping watch of the treeline, and listening to the sounds of the frothing river below. His body was an ember, waiting to spark to life in flames from his lust. For Lily to say such things to him and for him to not act upon it in dominance took every ounce of control he could summon. His touch was something she confessed to enjoy, and having permission to fondle her body put him in the path towards claiming her for his own. He would have her soon, with enough patience and a nudge in the right direction, she would submit to his will. He purred softly from deep within his chest, stroking her hip as he took in the scent of her hair, the strands tickling around his nose as he inhaled the delightful myrrh and sunlight that was his Lily. She breathed softly in sleep, so oblivious of how much power she already had over him when she had stolen him for her own. He was made content by that realization as she held tightly to the fabric of his tunic, fisting the material in her hands while he murmured a faint whisper into the air. "And you are mine."


	14. Come The Sunrise

Lily awoke when the sun was still starting its task for the day. Much of the earth was still covered in darkness, the dawn in no hurry to bathe the world in its sweet glow. She cleared her throat, her mouth dry and her lips chapped from having no water to drink since they had started their journey back towards the mountain. She was starting to feel the effects of that, but sleep was now evading her, and she opened her eyes completely to find she was still rested against Smaug. His breathing was even and his eyes shut tight as he slept, but his hold around her waist had not relented in the slightest. She thought he was most handsome at that moment, nothing to disturb him in the silent break of morning. He was all the more dragon to her as he slept, the hues of his skin still rich and vivid like his scales, and she could sense a fire was burning within. The beast was not lost; he was just hiding, waiting to be awoken from his slumber, and she would do all in her power to help him.

Her hands traced down from his neck to his chest, unable to stop their curious ministrations. As much as she yearned for his touch, she also craved to feel him in return, and she could not control her fingers as they drew lines across the top of his chest. The material of the tunic was thin, and she had no doubt her strength would be enough to tear it away if she wished it. She longed to see more of him, to learn which ways were best to touch him in return for how he made her feel. In a societal perspective, he would have been much too old for her, and the thrill of that only delighted her more in a way that was still alien to her. She knew nothing of the hearts of men, but Smaug was more dragon than what this form could disguise, and her mind was eased by that knowledge. He could certainly guide her if she asked, but she wasn't quite sure if she was ready for whatever a physical union entailed. Also, he was a proud and mighty dragon; would it be wrong for him to lay with someone outside of his own kind? Her feelings were still jumbled, and she suspected she trusted Smaug because he was the best example of being decent towards her since her brothers. She let out a sigh in frustration, her fingers halting when she felt an abrasion under the cotton tunic, and she frowned, pulling back on the collar to spy a scar that harshly cut across his left pectoral in a thin white line.

"This is a strange marking." She commented lowly to herself. Had he become injured during his rescue attempt to save her from the elves? But that could not be, the wound was clearly ancient, smooth and healed as if he had sustained it long ago in battle. Smaug had never confessed to reverting into a human form in the past, but it was not possible for a dragon to scar, was it? She had seen his golden ornate chest many times, and from a glance it was flawless to an envious standpoint. She thought to ask him when he awoke, but he was much too prideful, and she did not want to offend him all because she had been gawking at his body whilst he slept. With deft fingers, she unfurled his collar back into place, and pulled her hands away back to herself as she was flooded with guilt. It was wrong of her to do that without his permission, and she was still very shy from contact with him, even when he was the initiator.

She sat still in his half-embrace, studying parts of the wild land while on occasion his hand would squeeze at her soft body. He made delicious sounds in his sleep, throaty growls and powerful rumbles that possessed her heart in a tight grasp. Her own insecurities were brewing in the forefront of her mind like a bad storm. It was easy enough to fantasize and hope for loving caresses, but what if her body disgusted him? She was still such a girl, her breasts small and her hips not quite defined like the so many heart shaped waists of women she had seen. She had nothing on her body to fill his long hands with, except her long and coarse hair, and she worried that wouldn't be enough. Her mind was sharp enough to discern that his hold was possessive, but the line between treasure and warm company was thin in his case, and she already promised herself she would not be another golden idol to him. Her emotions were getting the better of her, and afraid he would pick up on them through the bond, she quickly clamped-down on any feelings of self-doubt.

' _Honestly Lily, get it together'_ , She berated herself. The connection was making her crazy because she was still so unsure of how strong the tethered bonds were between them. The learning curve to that would take time, and if impatience was already getting to her, she could not imagine what Smaug was feeling. As a dragon, it could not have been one of his perfected traits.

As gently and sly as she could muster, she shimmied out from his grasp, his empty hand landing against the ground in a dull thud while she skittered to her feet. She needed just a moment to herself to clear her mind. That was the funny thing about distance; sometimes the hurt it caused was bruising, but in the little moments, like on the sunrise of an autumn morning, inner peace could be conjured from it. Lily glided through the short grass, the blades tickling the arches of her naked feet as she walked until stopping at the edge of the ridge once again. She sat down on the ground, legs dangling over the soft earthy cliff as she watched the explosion of light over the horizon. The sun reminded her of dragon-fire, and how she had been completely enveloped in it, her bones surely becoming charred black beneath the surface of her skin as she breathed in the blaze. She could live in fire, be reborn from the flames as she turned to ash. It would never be her undoing, but she wondered all the same of the force in Middle-Earth that had the power to end her. Immortality did not exist; just the semblance of it.

A rapid chirping broke her pondering, and she stole a glance at her right to spy a bird hopping about on the ground beside her. He was a waxwing, springing about on his two legs,  _pop pop pop,_ singing out a lovely tune as she watched with glee. He was the most gorgeous thing she had seen in any daybreak she had ever endured, with soft orange plumage spread out over his body while the tips of his wings and tail feathers were lined in black, yellow and red. The eyes were masked in a line of black, and the top of his head was brushed back with a fiery orange crown. He was a little prince, and she held out her hand, beckoning him forth as she whistled back a melody. At first he was hesitant, flapping his wings up in the air, before swiftly touching back on the ground. She did not give up though, and eventually she felt his thin talons close around her finger as she brought him up off the ground before her face. His weight was lighter than a snowball, and his spindly feet felt like twigs wrapped in her hand as she studied over him with care. He puffed up proudly as she stroked a finger down his back, the downy softness like silk under the pad of her digit.

"Hello friend." She greeted pleasantly.

He seemed to chortle back to her, releasing a string of chirps while he gave a fast beat of his wings. A most unusual thing happened, and she jerked her hand in surprise when she realized she had understood his reply. It wasn't entirely like he had spoken words, but she comprehended the meaning all the same as he greeted her in return. He hopped off her hand, gliding over until he landed on her shoulder, peeping into her ear as if telling her a story. Her eyes were glassy with tears of amazement while she listened to her little prince twitter a tale.

"You're amazing," She told him earnestly, and he let out a guffaw of tweets. Birds rarely swept through Lake Town, and it was not as if she had ever stopped to converse with one before, absurd as it was, at the time she hadn't need of anything else to set her apart from the townsfolk. She wondered if she had always been able to communicate with a variety of avian species before, but the reaches of her mind were blank. Regret filled her over her lost memories, wishing she knew more of her long life and how she had come to be found on the shores of the Celduin, washed up from the river in human form. "Do you know anything about me?" She inquired of her new feathered companion.

He sang a no in reply, telling her he was drawn to her because of her magnificence, and that everyone had heard her phoenix song across the wood and through the water. They knew of what she was, and how she was truly the majestic Queen of all things that took to the skies. Perhaps Smaug was her King, and she blushed furiously at the thought. He already addressed himself as such while in the mountain, and perhaps one day he would keep her at his side as his equal.

Another waxwing darted through the air out of nowhere, landing on the ground before her, singing boldly to her companion on her shoulder. She laughed, imagining she must have looked like quite the sight in an oversized coat while conversing with birds. It wasn't anything to concern herself with, and she didn't burden herself over it as she allowed the new arrival to leap into her hand. The sunrise was now nearing complete over the horizon, and she knew they would be descending to the river today, further towards the mountain. She had a request to ask of Smaug, though regardless of his answer she was determined to see it through, whether he followed her or not. In that moment she felt like a Queen, and she was confident she could make the King turn his neck anyway she desired.

* * *

Between Lily's words and the loss of his sequestered mountain, Smaug had found it difficult to find sleep in his exile. Always he was ensconced in gold and treasure, and he found slumber difficult to come by without it, leaving him to float adrift like smoke. By chance sleep had eventually taken him, but it was restless and accompanied with a dream that had him staggering. As always, Liliana was with him, only she was not the Lily he had come to know. Her wild hair was darkened silver and her brown eyes nearly black as she surrounded him. She was clothed in fabrics of deep red and inky black set to swallow the light, shrouding her pale limbs as she danced in a haze. She terrified and enticed him as she moved, hands clasped together at the nape of his neck while she peppered his face with her toxic kisses. His hands held her waist with brutal force, yet she managed to escape him once more, darting away as she stalked him in circles that made him forgetful. Her torso was pressed in his back and she inclined her neck to whisper words into his ear, breath panting hot against his slick skin, all manner of evil things spilling from her tongue. Her dark mutters were that of an oracle, predicting of the worlds end in ash and shadow and despair. He knew her words were not of her mind for they did not belong on her lovely tongue. They tasted sorrowful and bitter from a distance.

He was being crushed by the weight of her apathetic stare as she now stood before him, so strong and delicate. Her half-lidded eyes were glazed in madness as she let out a cry of laughter, and she turned to ash before he could reach for her. The phoenix was reborn before him, vermilion feathers tainted onyx, and she glowed with the fires of a supernova as she took off into the obscure. He roared with the fury of the sea, body shifting, his bones breaking in agony as he was restored to glory. His claws were sharpened and his fangs elongated, while he narcissistically admired his exquisite scales. He gave a power flap of his wings, the motions enabling him with his former splendor while he breathed a river of fire that illuminated the vast shade. The vapors of smoke were all that remained of Lily's trail, and he dove up after her, spotting her floating figure ahead as she toyed with him, allowing him to get close enough before she would dive down and away from his grasp. The chase continued as he pursued her, nothing but a misty veil surrounding them. He grew frenetic to catch her, the light flames of her feathers nearly completely gone before his sight as he started to howl in desperation. He was jolted awake with the last sight of Lily falling into shadow devouring his mind.

His head jerked up while his shoulders flinched back, and he unceremoniously fell to his side as his back slid across the boulder, the friction burning through his tunic. Lily was not beside him as he had remembered before falling unconscious, his hands patting the ground as if she had suddenly evaporated into the air from where he had left her. He sat up, searching across the space of the ridge before he spotted a most relieving albeit peculiar sight. Birds were flocking in droves to the cliff, and Lily was at the center, a mirthful smile on her face as she was surrounded by an array of coloured feathers. Everything from thrushes and ravens, to crows and sparrows were sitting around her, warbling out their own unique songs as she listened. The dawn had come without his consent, and he wondered how long he had been left alone to his malevolent visions without Lily beside him.

Feeling fiendish, and wanting for her attention to be entirely on him, he rose to his feet silently and started towards her. The birds were quick to learn of his appearance, and an eruption of wings blasted through the air, shrieking and cawing while feathers were scattered as they flew off from fear. Apparently they could sense the beast within him as much as he could, and thus fled. Lily beamed a smile at him regardless, appearing sheepish as she shifted her head to look to meet his gaze. He narrowed his eyes at the little pest still sitting on her shoulder. One brave waxwing clinging close to her as it chattered and spat at him with obnoxious screeches. Annoying thing; he would set its feathers ablaze if he could, and if it wasn't for the fact that Lily already looked so attached to the little pet. Her smile was enchanting, and he preferred the healthy look on her face rather than of the diseased girl in his nightmare. He offered her a hand to help bring her to her feet, and her small companion fluttered off into the direction of the woods after its brethren. Lily frowned slightly at that, but she kept her hand clasped in his a moment longer.

"What a strange morning I've had." She commented, her eyes turning back to the woods in question.

"Indeed. You are quite appealing to your new friends it would seem."

"Oh that," Her nervousness grew, he could feel her tremble as he held on to her hand. "This is strange, but I could understand them."

"There is nothing about you that I will ever see as strange. The anomaly of you is just your nature, and it is in no way odd that you can converse with your lesser kin." His reassurance calmed her, and he could feel all trepidations seep from her body. It must have been common for her to hide many things as she lived amongst humans, and he would continue to encourage her into speaking only the truth. He ran his hands up her arms, stopping at her shoulders as he framed her small body with his, giving a nefarious and wicked smile. "And how is your injury?"

"Stiff," She said, giving her shoulder a roll to shake away the remnants of sleep. "But I can manage. It was only one arrow after all."

"I'm certain your tears could heal a platoon of soldiers," He agreed. "Come, we cannot afford to linger here any longer. We can make our way down to the river."

Lily nodded, but she did not move from her place. "Before we make the journey back to the Lonely Mountain, I . . . I want to see Lake Town, just one more time."

Smaug felt his brow grow heavy in a frown while he fought away a sneer. His blood simmered at her request, terrified that if he brought her back to her home, she would not want to leave with him. Despite the cruelty of the townsfolk, there were still her brothers, one of whom was harbouring strong feelings of love for her. If Lily so much as sensed that, or if Gaellyn professed his feelings, she would cling to the hope that she could live in the semblance of a normal life. In her heart, it was something she foolishly longed for. He refused to be alone again, the cold corridors of his mountain not as inviting without her in them, and his gold dulled without her cheer. They were already bonded, and whether she knew it or not, that meant she had chosen him, and he would not part with her so she could become some seafarer's wife.

"No."

Her eyes lit up and she grinned playfully. "I knew that would be your answer."

"And you are elated for that?" He questioned in confusion.

"Yes actually," She slipped out of his hold, taking a step back with a challenging smirk colouring her face. "Now you'll have to chase me, because I'm not going to comply with what you order. I think you owe me this one time, after I saved us both from imprisonment in the woodland realm." Her heels were lined up with the edge of the cliff, and she stole a daring look over her shoulder at the water below. "I cannot fly, but I can run."

His actions were belated, and he watched on in horror as Lily threw herself from the ridge, down to the river. He hurried his feet to the edge just as he heard the splash of her body hitting the foaming rapids, and her head resurfaced, pale hair clinging down her back while the leather coat slicked tight on her body. Her giggle reached his ears, abounding with exuberance as her eyes shone from the excitement. She raised her hands out from the water, taunting him with a wave as the current carried her further away. He was vocal about his frustrations at her, body coiling tight, ready to strike like a serpent as he hissed and spat venomously. She was purposefully forcing his agreement, knowing full well that he would follow, and he did not delay in leaping in after her.

Smaug hated water, detested the wetness and the cool as it soaked his garments thoroughly to his skin. He ran quite hot as a dragon that often moisture would immediately turn to steam as it touched the surface of his scales, but now as a man, he was drenched. The stuff got everywhere too. His hair clung to his face, eyelashes catching little droplets while he spat out a large swallow from his mouth with the rest of the salty substance creeping down his throat and through his nose. He continued to sputter and choke on it as the current dragged him after Lily, the pull so strong that he could not hope to fight it in this weak form. He heard insistent chirping overhead, and he looked up at the sky to spot the nettlesome waxwing had returned, gliding forward through the air after Lily. Smaug started to paddle after in its direction, knowing he would reach her sooner with the extra drive. He was holding up his walls as best he could, but he was afraid being caught in the river for too long would break down his dam, and Lily would be vulnerable to attack from his rage. It was because of her and her recklessness. She seemed adamant in following her streak of ambitious and irrational decisions, so she should be well prepared for his fury. He was red in tooth and claw, his reaction to vilify her for her decisions would always be anger, for instincts drove him to that.

He took in a breath just before the river banked sharply at a corner, the strength of the churning rapids sucking him under before he bobbed up again in relatively calm waters. The river was considerably shallower, and he could make out the pebbles on the floor below as he floated languidly on the surface. The sun was breaking through the few clouds in the sky, reflecting off of the crystal water, and the banks on either side were sparse of trees and plant life. Mostly only boulders and dry grass grew throughout these parts between the wood and the lake, and on the riverside to his left was Lily. She sat in the gravel, legs to her chest while her silly pet buzzed around her, whirling about in the air while she squeezed the damp from her hair, a heartened grin on her face. It continued to grow bigger as she spotted him, and she shooed at the bird to leave, though it refused to listen as if sensing her forthcoming reprimand she was about to receive. She stretched her legs out before her, wiggling her toes while everything about her countenance was carefree. It stifled some of his rage, but not enough for her to go unscathed, and he leapt at her just as soon as he was freed from the confines of the river.

She let out a startled yelp, her waxwing abandoning her for the brush while Smaug straddled her body. He quickly became fascinated with her resolve to smile, even when he had her twig-like wrists trapped above her head in each of his hands, not once did she falter. "I win, so it seems we're going to Lake Town."

"I have no tolerance for you to behave like a brat Liliana, and my answer is no." He snarled, ignoring the fact that he was dripping water on to her body. He couldn't be bothered with such minute things at the moment, his focus tuned on his Lily as she showed no fear to his hostility.

"Then I'll go without you," She replied determined. "You cannot stop me, not unless you plan to sit on me until one of us changes back. Neither of us knows when that will be, and I would much prefer if you came with me. You have already been there once, and you've met my brothers. Would it not be easier the second time with me there?"

"Enough!" He barked, the mention of her brothers turning him colder than steel on a blade.

She scowled back, brown eyes becoming dim in annoyance with him. "Oh you stubborn slug!"

He gave each wrist a threatening squeeze, causing a whimper from her as his black mood roiled his clear thoughts. "You insult me after doing something as idiotic as throwing yourself from a cliff, and you expect my sympathies? I had such hopes that you were more resourceful than those humans you were forced to surround yourself with, but I see my error in judgment is showing."

"I just saved us leagues of walking by doing that. We have no resources, nothing to sustain us, and I need food and water quicker than you do. I won't make it back to the Lonely Mountain if we don't stop, you ignorant brute!"

Their shouting echoed throughout the valley, stripping the trees of leaves, and rippling the water as their eyes met in a heated stare. Their connection opened up between them, though what he had initially feared from his blind rage had not prevailed; instead of fueling her with his wrath, he was met with lust. He attacked her mouth with his, his hands releasing her wrists in favour to grab her hair while allowing her to feel him in turn. She combed his hair back with her fingers, pulling at the dark locks that were at the base of his neck. His lips had still been glossed with the residue of the river water, and she drank it into herself, her tongue tentative but playful as she parted her lips for him. His arm circled down to her waist, hooking it around as she arched up, pulling her from the hard gravel. He accommodated her on to his lap, letting her straddle him while he continued to fervently pour his sin into her through the kiss, sucking at her tongue and teasing her with his. She was squeezing his hair so tightly that already most of the water was gone, and the curls ensnared her fingers as she massaged at his scalp. He let out a low purr, breaking off from her mouth as he continued to nip at her skin from her jaw, slowly making his way down her neck as he grazed at her flesh with his canines. She moaned quietly as he pinched her skin between his teeth, sucking at her collarbone until he left a harsh mark on the white canvas. He delighted in the shiver she released as he started to lick at his brand, Lily quickly growing hot in his arms as he transferred his heat. She tasted like the sun, her light he was taking as he selfishly took all of her for himself, and left nothing for the world. Let them fall into darkness, so long as she was his to keep.

"Do you still like when I touch you?" He murmured deeply, his hand pressing her tight to him around her waist while his other hand started to trail up her leg.

"Yes." She dragged her nails down his chest, scraping over the scar and his nipples, giving him cause to groan. He let his fingers continue up her leg, to the inside of her thigh. The skin was incredibly smooth and soft between the juncture of her legs, and he could feel her muscles tense beneath his hand. He kept going forward, his fingers brushing into her soft patch of curls and down to her slick entrance. Lily started to quiver in his hold as he ran his thumb over the swollen little nub, another finger tracing along her folds as her juices collected in his hand. The grip she had on his tunic was turning her knuckles whiter than the fabric, and he whispered pleasant things into her ear, trying to calm her as he worked at her core. He placed a coaxing kiss on her mouth while his finger started to probe at her entrance, the wetness guiding him into her velvet heat. Even with the fountain of her arousal, she was clenching tight around his digit as he started to pump slowly. He heard her let out a small sob, and suddenly her hands turned flat against his chest, pushing him back.

"No, stop." She mewled in discontent.

Smaug let out a growl of frustration, everything in him demanding to continue despite her protests, but the anguish in her voice had managed to break the spell, and he could not continue knowing Lily was in discomfort from what he was doing. He wanted to take her with everything he had, but as he came to his senses and looked around at their setting, he felt despondent at the idea of her cold and wet on her back in the gravel. With great struggle, he withdrew his hand, his finger sliding out from her core, doused with her essence that he was desperate to taste. He also dropped his hand from her waist, allowing for her to scuttle away from him, her legs closing shut while she panted heavy with her hands at her chest. He looked down at his fingers, something akin to shame clawing at him that made him unable to look her head on. The glistening damp of her center permeated his senses, and he could not stop himself from cleaning his fingers, lapping at her juices regardless if she was there to witness the act. His eyes shut with a satisfied grumble, and to the powers unknown he prayed for his resilience. If she let him get that close again, he would not be able to stop, not again when he came so close to making her his.

"I'm sorry," Lily said softly, her sharp eyes heavy with emotion when their gaze met across the small distance. She had relaxed her stance, arms at her sides as she pushed herself up from the ground. She inclined her neck to the side, looking ahead as the river trickled forward, the peak of the mountain still visible on the horizon. "I just . . . can't."

He did not offer a reply, simply standing as he righted his tunic into place. His anger was often unbecoming in moments like this when she needed his patience, so he was best to keep silent. He tracked his unyielding thoughts, reflecting over what could have changed for her so abruptly; for he could feel she had been with him in the lusty embrace before she had shut down completely. Whatever the reason, after that display of behavior, he had no choice but to agree with her demands, and so it seemed they were going ahead to Lake Town, the brooch heavy on his person as he was reminded of the debt that needed to be paid. He silently indicated for her to walk ahead, his sight better at the rear if by chance they came by trouble. She needed time away from him anyway, and it was the only thing he was able to give her. He was otherwise thoughtless when it came to the emotions of a girl. They would talk later. For now he rather welcomed the muted tone of the valley, it giving him the time to allow for his blood to cool, as he had felt so close to being dragon once more.

His reverie broke as Lily let out a gasp ahead, and took off running forward unexpectedly. He sprinted after her, calling her name before he caught up to her halted figure. She must have seen it first, and the familiar sight gave Smaug the cause to curse his bad fortune. The familiar barge was docked at the bank, loaded in abundance with empty barrels from the woodland realm. Aboard on deck was the same man who first had brought him this way, only this time he was alone. "I did not think I would see you so soon, Caladrieng."

Lily shot a quizzical look back at him which he ignored. "Hello again son of bargeman." He remarked dryly.

"I expect I have your word on that quick payment," Smaug shot a murderous glare at Bard, who as always, remained unfazed. "Don't worry; I'll let you ride back for free this time, if only because we share a common friend."

Lily smiled shyly. "Hello Bard."

"It is good to see you again Lirarwen. You'll have to tell me how you came by this way," Bard gave a mistrusting look back at him over her shoulder as he let them climb aboard. Smaug stepped closer to Lily, regardless if it gave her trouble because of their previous altercation. He did not like her seen without him around humans, his guard ever present around them because of his hate. They took their seat on the wooden bench as Bard finished his labour, turning the boat out from the river in the direction of Esgaroth. This was now the second time Lily would be brought back from the Celduin to the town, and no doubt people would talk. The gossips would have persisted about him as well, for the novelty of him would still be fresh in their minds, and he dreaded what awaited them in that place. Bard continued to steer the barge through the water, his eyes turning to Lily with the grim shadow of a smile on his weather face, and before he even spoke, Smaug knew it was going to be a long journey back to that town he detested more than he cared to discuss. "So Lirarwen, what is your story?"


	15. We'll Cross the River

Smaug listened to Lily's recount of her story, her voice lulling him into a relaxed state as he would have otherwise been hostile in that incident. She excluded the details of the mountain and of the wood elves, filling in her own little lies to fulfill Bard's curiosity. Smaug kept an arm around her waist, uncaring to her protesting look, or Bard's accusing one. It was obvious what the bargeman's son was thinking. Lily appeared suddenly with him, disheveled and in nothing but the coat he was given from the Master. The accusing look he was given was fueled by disgust, as if he had stolen her virtue. The assumption slighted him, and if it weren't for the dire need they had of his transport, Smaug would have killed the human. Yes, dragons took by nature, but he would have Lily when she came to him willingly. The satisfaction of knowing she wanted to be claimed by him far outweighed his own carnal needs, and so he was left spellbound like a fool, her taste lingering on his lips as he thought about how her taut heat would feel around him.

"Yricyn misses you, as does Gaellyn," Bard informed her as he kept his eyes pinned to the water while he steered. "How are you going to explain your story to them?"

"Well, I don't think it is a big secret that no one wanted me around. I made the townsfolk uncomfortable." Lily said timidly with a shrug. She kept her hand closed tight around the lapels of the coat, cleverly hiding the mark he had left on her collarbone from their previous tryst.

"You look fairer than last I saw of you. Perhaps time away was what you needed." Bard said in reference to her glowing skin and her vibrant hair that had been ashy gray since before she had departed across the Long Lake.

"Perhaps." She responded cryptically, her eyes darting away from Bard's and towards his as if pleading for his help.

However she did not have to worry, for the focus was quickly turned on him by Bard as he drove them safely through across the water, the thin head of the oar slicing through the water's surface like teeth through flesh. "And how do you fair Caladrieng, for you look a little worse since your departure."

Smaug's eyes darkened, taking it as insult as Bard besmirched his character. "There were unexpected turns in my journey." He said simply.

"Indeed, I should congratulate you for having all the luck in the world. You finding Lirarwen; it's not something I would have put my hopes in."

"Nor I."

Smaug felt Lily lace her fingers with his in her attempt to mollify him, and it did the task beautifully as he squeezed back. Bard took notice, his hard eyes narrowing, though he did not make comment of their linked hands, or of their general contact with one another. He was more of an observer that others would often overlook; quiet and dangerous to stir up just enough trouble to draw attention. It wasn't any wonder why he was enemies with Alfrid, the notorious eavesdropper of the town.

"What can we expect when we arrive in town?" Lily inquired, her thoughts clearly on her two brothers that Smaug would rather she stay clear of. It would be for the best if they left just as soon as they were prepared with provisions and a night's sleep, but convincing her of that would likely be a challenge. She was as daring as she was shy, and keeping the balance between the two was arduous.

"We won't run into any trouble, only because you are both known to the town, though be prepared for they might not extend their hospitality," Bard warned. "Since you left Caladrieng, everyone has been buzzing with word of you, and Alfrid had been fueling your notoriety with rumors. I expect half of them are false of course, he isn't known for his integrity after all."

"The target will shift to my back with my return," Lily stated sadly. "He does not like me, though I suppose I am equally guilty in my feelings for him."

"Alfrid Lickspittle is liked by very few; we put up with him, but we don't like him." Bard agreed as he maneuvered around the deck of the barge, his skills as a waterman impressive as he led them down river.

When Bard was out of range to hear them, Lily leaned slightly closer to Smaug, her chest brushing up against his arm as she turned to incline her head up, putting her mouth level with his ear. "When did you meet Alfrid?" She whispered to him in secret.

"I had the unfortunate opportunity of playing guest in the Master's abode my first night in Esgaroth. That little weasel stays close to the ties of the Master's robes. It serves the purpose for the sniveling rat he is." Smaug said acerbically. "He has not harmed you ever, has he?"

Lily's eyes widened slightly, as if she felt fear. Her bleeding heart was a wonderfully stupid thing. He knew that she would even shield the likes of those who were cruel to her from his anger, all in her efforts to tame the beast and appeal to his better nature. Only the Valar knows if he had one, and if it did exist, it must have been hidden under a mountain of hatred and vengeance that he had built up in his heart over an age of his pernicious existence. Men were the cause of his suffering from his past, and in his present, and that would never change in his eyes. The only thing he despised more than humans, were dwarves.

Lily shook her head while she wore an agreeable expression to answer him. "No, only with his words, though he would often pull on my hair when we were younger, but Gaellyn put a stop to that eventually."

Of course he did, Smaug thought bitterly. As much as he wanted to praise her brother for protecting her, Smaug could not get passed the idea of him having feelings for her, and not just feelings, but strong emotions of love. His jealousy warmed him, and he wore it like a cloak, proud and arrogant. It wasn't a fair comparison in his eyes. He was perfection in either form he took to, and he could look after Lily, provide for her and teach her the ways of her kind. They were bonded, and he had silently sworn himself to her, perhaps from the very first moment he had laid eyes on her through his fire. He need only worry for how strong Lily's feelings for her brother went, and if she could return the sentiment. But no, he would not allow for that to progress, and he fancied the idea that he would rather cut her brothers heart out and set it ablaze on a pedestal for the air to claim the ashes. The rest of Middle-Earth could settle for Gaellyn, and he would have Lily.

"Oh my!" Lily gasped, keeping her voice in a hushed whispered so as not to alert Bard.

Smaug looked down at her lap to see what the problem was, and he snorted out in amusement at Lily's stunned face. Apparently her determined little pet had been following them all this long way from his wood, and he popped about in excitement on her lap, his tiny talons snagging on the material of the coat as he trilled. It would seem Smaug was not the only creature in the skies unwavering in his need to follow after her, and the troublesome little waxwing was almost as persistent as he was. Smaug found he did not entirely detest its presence if it continued to make Lily smile as she was now. "Perhaps you should name him."

"Well, I don't know about that," Lily said shakily. "I don't have the heart to cage him."

"A title is not a cage. Think of it more as bestowing him with potential." Smaug responded while frowning undetectably. He wondered if she thought of her name as his way of laying ownership over her; a cage without a lock.

"Erugon," Lily suddenly said aloud. "That's what I'll call you, my little desert prince. Your colours remind me of sand under a scorching sun."

The bird screeched with pride, diving in circles around her head before taking roost on her shoulder. Lily managed to usher Erugon into the top of her coat, muffling his little chirps before Bard would discover he had a third traveler aboard. She giggled to herself whenever the waxwing shifted in the coat, the feathers and claws tickling her skin while she tried to compose herself. Smaug watched her, fascinated by her glee, never knowing such unbridled mirth until her. He was curious to know if she was still under the effects of his caresses, but perhaps she took better care into hiding her lust than he did. He was still baffled for why she had pulled away, but he was grateful that she had chosen that time to do so. It would have been a memory forever stained and tainted by his loss of control, and he would not have his Liliana be taken so cruelly. He was now longing selfishly for privacy with her once more, even when it seemed they were always together. All he could comprehend was it was a little more difficult to function without her, and his wits were skewed without her nearby. He craved for any form of intimacy with her, whether it was a simple touch or a kiss. His hand was stuck to hers, in refusal to let go.

"We're coming up upon the gate," Bard announced as he returned to their side of the barge, looking over the ledge to the lodge cabin buildings that were appearing through the fog, floating gracefully above the water on stilts. The day was losing steam as it limped into evening, the breeze already chilled from the water as they lost sight of anything lush and green. "I am inviting you to be guests in my family home for now. There should be plenty of room for you to settle, and you can have what food we have to spare."

"Thank you Bard," Lily credited him in good manner. "Could you perhaps invite Gaellyn and Yricyn over to see me? I know I might not be welcome with my old guardians, but I wish to see my brothers some way."

"I thought you might, and I will see to that after we've docked." Bard promised.

Lily nodded quietly, her hand tightening around Smaug's while she turned to him with fearfulness as they approached Lake Town. She was so brittle, like the petals of a flower being stripped away from the pelting of raindrops and the gusts of a blustering wind. The smallest thing could fill her with blight, and she would wither and wilt away as he had seen before. She was a garden that needed constant tending to, or the weeds would grow, devouring the rose and its thorns. "Stay close to me, please?" She begged softly.

His eyes burned with intensity, and he knew she had seen it too. "Always."

The barge slowed as it fitted its way through the rows towards the gate. The smell of swelling wood was in the air, as was the salt and fish from the lake that was brought in by the fishers. One soul guarded the boathouse into town, a lonely job, though sleep seemed to keep him company as he held his head back with his hands, eyes closed as he balanced on the legs of his chair. Bard cleared his throat irritably, stirring the sleeping man, which caused him to come close to falling to his bottom from his seat. He appeared ruffled from being roused from his slumber, and he gave his grey beard a good tug while his murky blue eyes squinted keenly on the bargeman's son. "Ah Bard, back with another load already?"

"Yes, and I have brought some stragglers with me from those parts, wishing for rest and a few other comforts."

The gatekeeper sat forward, taking a look over Bard's shoulder at him and Lily side-by-side on the bench. "Oiy, you brought back that fellow from the Master's house, and is that . . . bless my beard, Lirarwen?"

"They're both known to the town, so it should not be any trouble bringing them past this gate," Bard quipped impatiently. "May we please go through?"

The older gentleman grumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he hit the switch to the gate. He spared one last glance at them as the barge rowed past, his face pinched sourly while he went back to leaning in his chair, his milky white eyes closing once again as he hummed a low tune to himself. Bard shook his head, looking incredulous by the social ineptitude he was surrounded by.

Smaug perceived the bargeman's son differently than he did most other humans, and perhaps in a different life he might have been destined for great things. Coming from a dragon, that was high praise. It was a lingering thought he held for himself, not even sharing it with Lily lest she think he held humans in higher regard than what was reality.

His mind drifted to other things, or rather, his sight became fastened to the Wind Lance atop the high tower over the town. He thought about the contraption, it's formidable design as sharp and penetrating as the arrows it fired. His attack against Dale was but a passing daydream now, and he had dismantled all of the weapons, save for the one. The aim of men was poor, and nearly all of the black arrows had shot straight past him, or he had knocked them out of their flight path as they hurdled down to the earth. The bane of his existence really; arrows forged from iron, the tips wrought into précised tips while they were fired through the air like spears. He had watched in vain as one took flight, scraping at his chest. It did not deflect, at least not before pulling loose one of his ostentatious scales from over his heart. The scar. It was not possible that Lily had not felt it beneath his tunic when she had mapped her fingers over his chest, and he would have to explain to her one day. He hated to be emotionally compromised, but it was the one minute detail that he would fret over, and at the most unusual times before he would force himself to forget the failing in his armor. The scale might have been lost, but his memory of that day was forever burned in his heart.

"This is home." Bard announced, breaking the silence as the barge shimmied to a stop at the dock at the underside of the house. Every home in Lake Town was the same, it would have been impossible for anyone to otherwise make a living without having some form of water transport or another, and Bard quickly fastened a rope from the barge to the dock before stepping out onto the planks of the boardwalk. Smaug followed, only because he wanted to be the one to give Lily a hand as she climbed over the side, and not the bargeman's son. Her slender palm fit into his, her giving him complete trust as he helped her over with his other arm circling around her waist. She let out an excitable squeak, turning a brilliant pink as she spied Bard watching.

"Would it be too much trouble to ask for a change of clothing?" She asked as she pushed back on the long sleeves of the coat.

"I'm sure I can lend you something of my mother's. You're taller than she is, but I imagine it will fit well just the same," Bard started up the steps that wrapped around to the top and connected with the front door. Neighbours and other fisherman drifting about in the water were looking under their hats at them. Bard was insusceptible to the stares, but Smaug could feel them lingering in question on his person, and no doubt Lily was also sensitive to the prying glances as she kept close to his side in the tight stair. "My parent's will not be in yet, but I would suggest you don't wander while I send word to Gaellyn and Yricyn. Someone might have already told them. You know how fast word travels in this place, Lirarwen."

"I remember." She said at a distance as they came to the top balcony outside the inviting door to the home.

"I'll find you something to wear before I leave to find your brothers. I should be back before my parents, but father will already know you Caladrieng, and of course they know you Lirarwen." He said as he walked straight through the sitting room and past the kitchen to a short hallway that was like an alcove, tucked away into the corner of the home.

The door shut behind them, the peering faces no longer granted a chance to sneak peeks at their unusual return while they settled into Bard's home. The worn wooden table was placed beside the warm hearth, cobblestone mantle crawling up to the roof all the way from the floor. One of the chairs was rickety due to a shortened leg that was in need of leveling out, and the rest of the furniture smelt of dust and smoke. The bare pads of Lily's feet patted across the hardwood as she settled herself onto the worn couch, and Smaug watched as she quickly snuck a look into the collar of the coat, the flash of an orange feathery head popping up as she said something softly to him. Bard's footsteps were returning and she arrested Erugon back into the safety of the leather collar while she smiled warmly for his return.

"Here," He gifted her with a bundle of old cloth, and Smaug was suddenly struck with the need to dress his Lily in rich and lavish gowns. She was beautiful in whatever she adorned, but it would be all the more fulfilling to know the robes she wore were provided by him, and not this bowman. "They aren't much, but they should suffice in keeping you warm. I suspect Gaellyn might still have an old pair of your boots that we can bring back. I'm afraid my mother has very short feet."

"Thank you Bard." Said Lily amicably as she sorted through the materials.

"I won't be gone long," Bard then said as he looked between the two of them, his eyes lingering a little longer on Smaug with scrutiny. "Try not to start any trouble, and stay put until I return."

Bard's footsteps thudded deeply against the wood as he started for the door, the heavy wood clunking shut behind him like the lid of a coffer snapping shut in Smaug's treasure hall. The silence broke out over the home like a bad wind, every snap from the fire louder than the last, and he is stuck standing still, unsure of what to make of the situation until Lily finally stood tentatively with the garments in her arms. She unhooked the first button of the coat, Erugon soaring into the open of the home while Lily went for the window. She pushed opened on the thin pane, the cold air of the lake seeping in through the orifice while her eyes followed the waxwing buzzing through the air. "Come on, you can't stay inside while we're here."

The little pet obeyed, though his chirps sounded miffed as Lily shut the window on him, leaving him to tap on the glass with his beak while he watched from the outside. Smaug imagined he would not stray far from the home, taking to the roof until they would leave again. And they would be leaving again. "Lily."

His stern voice commanded her stop before she could make it to the hallway to change. She seemed to decide something on her own as well, turning around, the bundle held tight to her chest which was still exposed at the top when it had slipped her mind to fasten the button once again. Her resolved was unwavering as she stood before him, and he was taken by surprise when she stood up on her toes, holding steady to him with one arm as she placed an impassioned kiss on his mouth. She teased and nipped playfully while he remained unresponsive in nonplus.

"I'm sorry," She murmured, pulling back even while her lips still brushed against his as she spoke.

She stepped away and continued to travel down the hall, disappearing into one of the rooms as if nothing had just transpired. He shook himself from his stupor, not all unlike he had to do often when he was a dragon mesmerized by rare gold. He went after her, knowing well that she would hear his footfalls after her as he invaded through the door she was hidden behind.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in her state of undress, clearly assuming he would have been chivalrous enough to knock first, but such manners were wasted on dragons. "Something you need?" She asked as she stood with the rest of his coat buttons unfastened, her breasts barely concealed as it revealed a pale trail from her breastbone and down to her navel. From her new-found bold confidence, he could still see her self-doubt lingered, and for the moment that was the side of her he wished to appeal to.

"Why the apology?" He asked, shutting them into the room.

"I see," She said, shifting on her feet while her hands clasped together nervously. "It was for before, when I . . . pulled away from you. I realize it might not have been me at my most attractive moment, nor were my actions clear."

"Foolish little paragon of fire, "Her eyes lit up in remembrance for the moniker he had first bestowed her with. "Was it fear or doubt that compelled you to turn away from me?"

"Both, I think," She was now pulling the coat closed at the front of her body, looking away from him, and instead at the rest of the tattered furniture in the bedroom. "I have so many questions, and everything was moving so fast that I couldn't hope to keep up. My body was ahead of my thoughts, and I knew I had to stop. Of course I was afraid, but for other reasons than what you are presuming I'm sure."

"I wish to hear your honest answers, but I realize now is not the time."

"No, of course not," She agreed somewhat disappointedly for finding themselves preoccupied with an impending visit. "I should change."

His eyes darkened as he thought about what lied underneath the bulky leather hide coat, and he considered his time frame as he took a step forward into the room. "May I help you?"

Lily's face flushed with heat, and her hands trembled as she let them lie at her sides. "Yes."

He walked until he stood before her, her eyes dodging around them room as they would settle on him for only a moment before she would shyly retreat once more. With practiced tenderness, he brought his hands up slowly, tracing the opened flaps of the coat. He wrested the fabric apart gently, exposing her pert chest, the pink buds darkening as the cool air kissed her. He slid the garment free from her shoulders, reclaiming his coat proudly only because it was laced in her spiced and oiled scent. She kept her body ridged as she watched him, barely breathing as she held her chest out, unintentionally drawing him in. Her hand held his at one side, and he used the other to trail up her front, skimming over the smooth plain of her stomach to the underside of her breast. She shuddered as his thumb traced her left nipple, it protruding in a pucker from his attention. He did not pinch or tease; only giving her a small caress before he retracted the touch completely. She let out a soft whine, and he fought to keep his restraint as he leaned past her to the bed to retrieve the beige tunic.

"Arms up." He instructed, somehow being able to keep his voice emotionless when he was dying for a drink of her.

Even Lily—with her face painted in wanton expression—looked startled by his control. "Are you punishing me because of my rejection?" She asked candidly.

He slid the garment over her arms, the loose material gliding with ease as her head popped out through the neck hole, ruffling her locks. She was frowning petulantly in waiting for his answer, but he continued to stall as he righted the large cotton shirt on her body, if only to see her impatient a moment longer. "You would know if I was punishing you, and I do not think you would like it. However, I can be fair if I wish, and I would try to be merciful."

There was much promise in that statement, and he felt that she knew that from the way her lips quivered in terrified curiosity. His mouth grinned on one side, his canines flashing before he pushed her back to sit on the bed. She landed in surprise when her knees made contact with the edge of the feathered mattress, but there was not so much force to knock her torso down into a submissive position. He felt for the trousers, knowing they would be a little more large and short on her lengthy legs. She looked down on him as he ran his sinewy hands up her calf, the thin muscle tight and strong on her defined appendage. He was seated in between her legs, and he only had to stare forward to see through her parted thighs to the patch of light blonde hair. Her pink folds were visible through the glistening hairs, and the potent smell of her arousal was strong as he was tempted to incline his head forward for a taste. Lily's eyes were closed, her grip tight on his shoulder as if anticipating for him to move forward. Instead, his hands slid away to her ankle, angling her foot as he guided the first leg of the trouser up her calf before doing the same with the other.

Lily's eyes opened with a huff as he helped her stand, pulling the trousers up the rest of the way to her hips before giving her a playful squeeze around the waist. "I do not know what you call this if it is not punishment, but it is cruel and I do not like it." She said defiantly, taking a step away from him as she crossed her arms.

He chuckled deeply at her, satisfied with her reaction, and much more relieved at the playful revenge than he had been since boarding the barge. "Come now and smile for me again. I gave into your demands in coming here, and you should take a moment to be pleased with yourself for that. I have never yielded to anyone."

Her eyes blew up big, still dazed from arousal and now in amazement at his confession. "Thank you."

He felt it should have been the other way around; her receiving his thanks for opening up a world to him that he would have never known. He brushed his fingers through her hair, combing her curls into a semblance of order as they framed her face. "Come Lily, they will be returning soon, and I can stomach little more of that Bard's speculating glares."

She gave him a questioning look, her nose scrunching adorably in confusion as she tried to discern what Bard would be accusing him of. Her naivety kept her blind to such things, and he would rather it remain as such for the duration of their visit. Words from others about their odd relationship might make her uncomfortable and force her to distance herself from him again. He wouldn't have that now, not after she had only just become accepting to most of his touches, the feel of her too pleasant to give up on. He led her through the door, back to the sitting room as they joined at the table by the warmth from the hearthstone. Erugon was no longer surfacing by the window, but he would not have strayed far from his majestic Queen, and nor would Smaug. He continued to gaze longingly at her, her fingers distractingly tracing the lines in the wood on the table as she kept her gaze down, cheeks flushed from what thoughts were occupying her. He hoped they were of him.

A thunder of small and short footsteps was bounding up the stairs outside, and the door boisterously flew opened until it hit the inside wall of the home. Lily's eyes sparkled as she swiveled around in her chair, the tiny boy across from her sparing a wide smile on his dirty face. "Lirarwen!"

"Yricyn!" She stood, up catching him in her arms as he flew at her. She lifted him up with ease, surprising him with her strength as she spun him around, radiating blissful delight. Her brother giggled in return, squeezing her tight as he held on.

Smaug watched with a disparaging smile, his mood continuing to grow dim as Bard and Gaellyn peeked in through the doorway, stopping at the jamb as they viewed the beautiful scene before them. He grew somber quickly, feeling a black hatred for all of the happiness in the room. Lily was unintentionally betraying him with her merriment, a thought that made him possessive and cruel. With her words, she had never promised to return with him to the mountain; it was an unspoken assumption on his part. He silently surmised that everything was about to change, and he would be alone again. The breath from the hearth was cold, and he turned his eyes away from the reunion, spotting Erugon hovering by the thin glass window at the back of the house as he floated behind the barrier where Lily had placed him. So too would he be cast out like the bird; liberated in the skies but chained to the ground by sentiment. Inside, he was already burning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I love to tease you my friend ;-)


	16. Hearts Burst into Fire

Lily couldn't contain her smile; her chest felt like it was filled with rushing water, ready to burst from all of the emotions. She set Yricyn down back on his feet while inclining her head up to notice Bard and Gaellyn were watching her with mixed expressions of joy and reserved welcoming, the latter belonging to their host.

"A promise kept," Bard said as he stepped inside with Gaellyn following at his side. "And the clothes fit I see."

"Yes, thank you," She cleared her throat of a nervous tickle, hands fussing with the hem of the tunic as she approached Gaellyn. "Hello."

"Hello," He said in return, pausing awkwardly before collecting her into his arms, tightly squeezing while he buried his nose into the crook of her shoulder. Lily felt tears spring to her eyes as she hugged her brother in return, the room going blurry like she was looking through fogged glass. "Where have you been Lirarwen?"

"Away," She whispered quietly before they separated. He kept her at only an arm's length, studying her closely for changes. His expression read the same as it always had when he would look at her; with love and impartial care. Neither Gaellyn nor Yricyn had ever acted negatively towards her appearance. To them, she was simply their sister. She quickly looked over him as well, noting that not much had changed since last she saw him, though his arms might have gained muscle as he got into the age of manual labour. Bags were visible under his eyes, tired from strenuous activity, and his dark hair had grown a little longer to his neck. His smile was tired and thin, but sincere, and she returned it. "I realize I have a lot of explaining to do with my disappearance."

"Yes, you do." Gaellyn scolded lightly with Yricyn standing at his side once again. His attention was pulled to the table, where a lone figure sat. Smaug was the little black cloud hovering in the room, ready to expand into a storm if the chaos in his expression was anything to go on. He wouldn't look her in the eye, and Lily felt her heart grow heavy while stones settled in her stomach as she attempted to conceal her hurt. What had she done this time?

"Look Gaellyn, it's the man again! I told you that he would be the one to bring Lirarwen home." Yricyn boasted as he tugged on Gaellyn's sleeve, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Be quiet Yricyn, we can all see him, no need to make a spectacle," He retracted Yricyn's hold on his arm as he approached the table. Lily watched anxiously as he stood before Smaug with as much bravado she had ever seen her older brother muster. "Thank you Caladrieng. I would have thought her lost to us forever if not for you."

"A fortunate coincidence." Smaug said indifferently, seeming to hate her older brother more than any other. His voice was deeper than a sea trench, black and hollow as his pupils that he used to scorch the room with his stare. She wondered if Smaug was with doubt over her resolve to return with him to the mountain, even though she had made her choice clear. But then maybe she had failed to make it so for him, and her dragon was left in doubt, hoping for a promise to pass from her lips. For whatever the reason, it did nothing to explain why he only reserved his animosity towards Gaellyn. For now her brother appeared ignorant to the fury pouring from the mature male at the table, but one sidelong glance at Bard and she could see the skepticism in his furrowed brow.

"We should save the talk for later over a hearty meal," Bard interjected as he laid a calloused hand on Gaellyn's shoulder. It did nothing to diffuse the palpable tension in the room, not by Lily's reckoning anyway. "My mother and father will be along shortly, and no doubt they would have heard about the guests they'll be playing host to from word in town."

"Aye, Alfrid would have told half the townspeople by now," Gaellyn agreed. "Oh, and before we get started; Yricyn, give Lira what we brought for her."

Smaug's jaw tightened from the fond nickname she had been given since her human youth, and hearing the distinct sound of his molars grinding together ruined whatever love she had felt for the moniker. She doubted if the others had picked up on the sound, but her keen senses were aware, along with the bond shared between them. He was building his walls to his mind sturdy and high, keeping her out from what he was feeling. It was something dangerous and dark, his body unmistakably reeking of hostility as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair had long since dried from the river water, the locks looking soft, even in disarray, and no doubt her mane resembled something similar. She consciously rubbed at her collarbone through the tunic where he had marked her, the flesh tender and flushed from where he had worked his mouth over her. The action seemed to spur Smaug further, his eyes glowing intensely as he surmised her as being guile.

Lily felt a tap on her arm, a gentle touch as soft as the cooing of dove in autumn, which broke her thoughts. Yricyn was holding on to her wrist, presenting her with a pair of old raggedy boots that were pleasantly familiar. "My old boots?"

"So your feet won't get cold and hurt," He replied innocently. She could recall many times that she would run out the door without them, drenching her socks from the lake water on the boards, or slicing her arches on loose nails sticking upwards from the planks. Always it was Yricyn who would hand her those threadbare leather boots, the things so worn that she had beaten the black right off of them, leaving them a slate gray colour. "Lirarwen, why did you leave?"

"I . . ." She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, the question feeling much harder to answer now that she was faced with it. She stepped into the boots, buying her a second as her hair fell in front of her face. Yricyn was still so small, he couldn't possibly understand the subtle nuances of abhorrence that she constantly received from the townsfolk, including his own parents. Gaellyn would not have sullied his brother's image he had of his parents either, and he remained heedless to the truth. "Why don't you get cleaned up first before we sit down to a meal?" She said, knowing it was only delaying the inevitable.

"Oh alright." He sulked off to the sink to get cleaned up, her watching sadly in guilt.

"You're back now, you should not worry so much," Gaellyn said as he turned up beside her, maneuvering a chair from the table to take a seat across from Smaug, who was still silent but diligent with his observing. "You have time to make it up to Yricyn, not that it will take much convincing."

"I suppose." She replied vaguely, not yet alluding to her brother to the fact that she had no intentions of staying in Lake Town.

Gaellyn was readying to say more, but the door of the home opening abruptly stopped him from speaking, and every head turned to the direction of the entrance to see Bard's parents had returned from working. His father's gaze surfaced to Smaug, likely because he had taken him down river on his barge, but his mother was staring directly at Lily, something akin to wonder on her face. Lily knew why. It was because of her sudden relapse into good health after her burning day; she was bright and shiny like a polished copper, and so she was suddenly accepted in the eyes of strangers. Knowledge of that made Lily feel despondent, and she wanted this new attention away from her before it could fester into something horrible.

"Goodness, quite a party we have to feed," Bard's mother said as she shut the door to her home. Her skirts trailed behind her as she shed her coat, and approached her son in the kitchen. Bard shared much more of his physical features with his father, from the strands of muddy hair, to the piercing eyes of a waterman. His mother was a soft woman, composed of a generous figure and a ruddy complexion on her heart face. She laid a stubby hand on her sons shoulder, smiling sweetly while strands of her yellow hair came down from the pins fastened in the braided bun. "It was good of you to give them shelter."

Bard nodded stoically, sparing a small smile for his mother while telling of his unaccompanied trip to collect his load on the barge. Bard's father had also strode his way into the home, a man of few words and a soft spoken voice as he quietly greeted everyone at the table. The chatter was sparse, awkward clearly, and Lily did a good amount of staring at the wood of the table as the mother got set to making supper in the kitchen. Yricyn took the chair on Lily's other side, making her sandwiched by her brothers which only furthered to set off Smaug's anger. Through all of the excitement from jumping off the ridge, to her tryst by the water, she had not considered how difficult this stop in Lake Town would be for him. She would need a way to offset his anger, but her time alone with him was now delayed by everything else happening around them. She tried in vain to reach through the bond as she had done before, but he was preventing her from touching his mind, and so she sat quietly with her hands in her lap.

Through the window outside, things grew darker, and they were cast into the evening when time teetered on the line to twilight. Plates of food were handed down the length of the table, Bard's parents at the left end by the hearth as they glanced down the spread. Next to them, Smaug was the furthest in years, at least by the physical standards of men. This known detail seemed to put the others off, especially because of whatever rumors were being spread through word-of-mouth out in the town. His gaze was not on them though, and he unabashedly continued to focus his stare on Lily, regardless of the others being there with them in company.

"What time will your parents be expecting you back, Gaellyn?" The mother asked as she folded her worn napkin carefully on her lap. She daintily continued to pick pieces of charred fish on to the prongs of her fork, forcing an inviting smile towards her guests.

"Before lights out," Gaellyn answered between bites. "I haven't told them about Lirarwen, but they will know by now."

A silence hung in the air, the unspoken truth that her previous guardians cared little of her reappearance was on everyone's minds. Lily pushed her fork around on her plate, having only tasted the little bit of steamed carrot while she let her fish fillet go untouched as it sat in its own oil and grease, staining the china beneath it. It was seasoned heavy with salt to cut the taste of the lake water, a cheap meal quickly throw on the cooker, one she could have gone without. Looking across the table at Smaug's plate, she found he had done the opposite. All traces of meat were gone while the fresh market foods remained. His hands had already drawn back from the table, his displeasure cascading in through the home like a bad rain leaking through the ceiling shingles. No one had gone out of their way to speak with him, in fact, they were as careful not to converse with him as they were not to look at him. Lily was sure it suited him just fine too.

"You are looking well, Lirarwen," Bard's mother complimented, and her voice wavered in nervousness. "I was unaware you had decided to journey."

Well, it was nice to know her presence had been missed while she had been away. She frowned sardonically, not as flattered from the praise as she should have been, and the oblivious nature in which they acted towards her wasn't helping any bit either. "It was something I decided on my own on a whim. I wanted to see beyond the docks of our town I guess, and nothing was keeping me here."

She didn't miss the way Gaellyn's face fell, or the hurt that appeared in his eyes from her tactless comment. Lily couldn't bring herself to feel guilty for doing something for herself for once. After a lonely existence of neglect from his parents, she had earned the right to be selfish just for one time, or so she rationalized it.

"It is some fine luck that Caladrieng found you. The whole place was in an uproar with his arrival, and the chatter will be fueled again with your return too." His mother continued.

"Yes, no doubt because of Alfrid," Bard mumbled lowly under his breath, though his mother shot him a disapproving look for the comment. "Sorry mother."

"I'm sure mum and dad will have much to say to you." Gaellyn spoke up, his lips thinned into a melancholic smile.

Lily only felt impassive to his attempts at welcoming; both of them knowing full well there was no longer a space for her in that house. It was an insult to both of them for him to speak of such things, and so she replied softly. "Yes, they probably will."

"You're coming back home with us now too, aren't you Lira?" Yricyn asked aloud. The sound of dishes clattering together was amplified by the pregnant pause. Lily finally glanced away from Gaellyn to look at her little brother's pleading eyes.

"Of course she is," Gaellyn interjected, not a trace of doubt in his tone. "Where else would she go?"

Gaellyn searched her face when she refused to immediately answer, his eyes flooding with pain when he saw her reluctance. Bard cleared his throat respectfully as he stood with his empty plate in hand, gathering the rusty utensils in the other. "Perhaps we should give you a moment with your brothers Lirarwen." He suggested kindly.

"Yes, thank you," She replied politely. "I have many things to explain, and I don't see any reason to wait."

It took no more convincing on her part to have his parents clear the table of dishes and make for the kitchen. The sloshing water in the sink dribbled down the cupboards and on to the wooden floorboards while plates were tossed into the suds. The large cast iron skillet and the pots and pans clanked together like drums, and the wooden drawers were released with loud crashes following, adding to the symphony of the kitchen. While the charming lodging was driven into the last routine of night, the others scattered around the hearth sat in delayed action.

"I'll walk back with you." Lily offered for a chance for privacy outside of the home, and to see the town under the stars. Night was always her favorite time, it blessing her with the chance to gaze at the moon while thinking over something important.

"Alright," Gaellyn answered tersely, Yricyn following to stand at his side with confusion on his youthful face as he rubbed at his eye with his wrist to fight off sleep. "Come on little brother."

Smaug stood abruptly as well, chair scraping back against the floor before they could make a move towards the door. His face was hard like granite, his resolve having been cut into the details of his harsh expression long since before they had sat down for meal. His focus gravitated towards her; such devotion and care from her dragon that she had not seen since the woodland realm. The rest of the room blacked out all around them, and for a moment it was only Smaug and Lily.

"No, you need to stay Smaug." She spoke through the bond, finding a crack in the wall, prominent enough for her to make contact.

She felt him growl, it rumbling deep within his chest and reverberating to her. "Do not leave me alone in this place Lily."

"I will return shortly. Trust in me, please!" She begged before gently pulling away from his mind. "Will Caladrieng and myself be taking room here for the night?" She asked Bard as he stood between everyone in strife.

"Of course."

"Then I shall return right after I walk with my brothers," She looked into Smaug's eyes as she said this, needing for him to accept the reassurance. Gaellyn and Yricyn were already headed out as she followed; her back burning with the knowledge of how much Smaug wanted to pull her back in and away from Esgaroth completely. Bard stood at the door as he let her out to the balcony, and she turned to him with one last request before departing. "Do not let him leave Bard."

"I will try, though don't think it hasn't gone unnoticed by me of how attached he is to you."

She had the decency to flush from his inference. "I know it must appear strange because you've always seen me as shy."

"At first I thought it was," Bard admitted frankly. "That was until I realized you are attached to him just the same."

"I—really?" She hadn't noticed her behavior, and only because she was always so focused on Smaug's to pay any heed to her own.

"Yes, but it is not so terrible," Bard reassured in a hushed voice between them. "You were always so alone Lirarwen, and you deserve better than what this town can provide. Take your out while you still can."

All this time, she never thought anyone else had noticed, but Bard had been a silent spectator to her wallowing and loneliness. She did not fault him for not speaking up sooner. It had not been his place to become heavily involved, not when his own life was filled with its own grievances. Perhaps one day he would find that one person to make him smile in the end. Until that time, she would hope for him.

"You have my thanks, for everything you've done to help me and him." She commended Bard, giving him a short embrace by the arm before leaping down the steps and after Gaellyn who stood waiting with Yricyn on his shoulders. Her younger brother was fading to sleep, but Gaellyn's eyes were pensive, his tunic clinging to him in the cold night while the spray from the lake dampened the air. There was a musty odor that wafted up her nose, choking her enough to have her breathing through her mouth as they started walking alongside the boardwalk. Lanterns in the lodges were being snuffed out as parents readied their children for bed, as well as themselves in preparation for another hard day's work of manual labour. There were the odd few stragglers still about on the streets, making their way on a pub crawl, and to the cider houses. Lily's hair glowed under the gloom of midnight, attracting the arbitrary glances from onlookers. She kept her chin high and her gaze forward, ignoring those who wished to bring her down, all the while waiting for Gaellyn to say something. Anything at all. The deafening silence was wounding.

"So, you're not going to stay." He finally managed a sentence, albeit a tight one.

Lily looked up at his shoulders, making sure Yricyn was asleep before she decided to speak candidly. "No, I won't be staying in Lake Town. I don't think I can anymore."

"I have to ask why Lira, and I think it has something to do with Caladrieng," Gaellyn shook his head, eyes brimming with anger. "When he first arrived here, he knew your name, and was even asking about you. I questioned him if he knew you from some place and if he would search for you when he departed, but he assured me the answer was no to both of those questions, yet here you both are. You come back with him, and I barely recognize you."

"Only because I am healthy and I look fairer. Its been on everyone's faces since I've gotten back, they're just trying to be polite by not saying anything." She said sadly, relieved that Bard had not informed Gaellyn any more on the state in which he had found them of the banks of the Celduin.

"No, it is not your physical presence that I am concerned over. I would love you regardless of what you looked like, you know that," He blushed from his own words, his feelings not translating to her clearly. "It's you Lira; you're different, more subdued and poised with a countenance I cannot perceive. I can't predict what answers you're going to give me, and you've lost that sense of . . . innocence. You must have seen more of the world in that short time than I realized."

"Are you judging me because I've grown as a person? I won't apologize for leaving. It was something I had to do for myself. I was dying here Gaellyn, you had to have seen that." Her response was of outrage, her voice carrying through the row houses of the town as she faltered in her steps.

"No, of course I know that. I'm just confused is all. You left here so abruptly without a word to anyone, now saying nothing was keeping you here, and you come back with that man, that stranger. Didn't Yricyn matter, or did you not think about me, like I didn't matter?"

"Gaellyn," She sighed, noticing how they were coming upon the cider house where they used to live above together. Yricyn was stirring again as they stopped their walking before the building, much of it still alive with the false cheer and celebrating of people. It did not appeal to her, the brightness in the room and the volume of the setting. She would go no further. "You should send him to bed. You know how cranky he can be in the morning if he doesn't get enough sleep." She said, trying to make light of the situation.

"You won't even come up to say hello?" He asked disappointedly.

"It's not the right time, and besides, they won't want to see me. They never have," She waved her hand about in dejection as she stood at the boards along the water. "I'll wait for you right here, I promise no more running off."

Gaellyn gave a stiff nod while he roused Yricyn from sleep, setting him down from his back. Her little brother rubbed at his eyes, smiling when he looked up to see her standing there beside them. "Aren't you coming up with us Lira?"

"Not tonight, I shall take rest with Bard's family, but I will see you tomorrow little brother. Come here." He gave her a hug around the waist while she wrapped her arms around him in return, murmuring goodnight before she released him to go with Gaellyn. She watched them go through the door of the establishment, laughter and glee pouring out from within, no face noticing her standing in the shadows. She held herself in arms, wrapped up in her thoughts when she didn't immediately notice a presence watching her from above, sulking along the rooftop of her old home. She caught the flash of orange feathers, Erugon attempting to slip past unnoticed, though she was now aware of him following her when he should have taken roost for the night. The flutter of a curtain from the window overhead also was noted by her, and she knew it had been her old guardians sneaking a peek at her to fulfill their own curiosity of her return. In her found strength the tides had now shifted, and they were the ones too cowardly to face her. She found strange humor in that.

"I'm sorry for the delay," Gaellyn said as he returned outside while he padded across the boards, his footsteps dulled by the wood. "I had to wrestle my way through the crowd. It's always busy on the last night of the month if you recall."

"I haven't been away that long Gaellyn." She retorted, knowing a lie when she heard one. His parents were the only things he would have had to mow over. "Walk with me, just for a little while."

He obliged without question, keeping a shoulders length apart from her as they traveled out of sight from his home. "I thought you had made it across the Long Lake. How did Caladrieng find you by Greenwood?"

"I backtracked around the lake. There was nothing across the water save for the mountain, so I turned back south after stopping in Dale." The wind whistled between the planks beneath their feet, Lily catching a chill that made her long for dragon's warmth as she walked beside her brother. His words held more questions than he let on, but out of fear or respect, she could not discern why he held back.

"What has he told you? Did he speak of his time here in Lake Town?"

"Yes, of how he knew your names, as well as Bard's. I wouldn't have trusted him to bring me back this way if he had been a complete stranger obviously."

Gaellyn grew ashamed by her accusing tone, but he did not relent. "You are with him?"

"Well, what if I was? What difference would that make to you?" She said, revealing nothing.

"You are so young Lira; too young to be with him. I don't trust him, and nor am I the only one to have this doubt."

"You've been listening far too much to Alfrid and his poisonous gossip." She felt betrayed, and perhaps because she felt she had to defend Smaug when he wasn't present.

"No, it's not only that," He came to stand in front of her, halting their progress in the town. Gaellyn's face was cloaked in the darkness, only a thin line of silver from the moon revealed his eyes in a mask, and behind it he was full of sorrow and love. "Come back to us Lirarwen, let Caladrieng leave on his own. Yricyn and I have missed you terribly."

"I cannot stay where I am not welcome, and there is no life for me here, not this time. Where would you expect me to live when no one in town would even hire me for work?"

"You could live with me, I would provide for us," Gaellyn declared, his thoughts deranged with thick emotions that he couldn't form into a coherent strand. She tried to interrupt him from saying anymore nonsense, but his grip tightened on her shoulders, and his boyish face lit with a mad idea. "We could get married."

Her mouth hung agape for a second before she shook her head profusely in disbelief. "No Gaellyn, we're brother and sister. Imagine what everyone would say. They would throw us both out, and your name would forever be shamed."

"Not by blood we aren't, we both have known that since we were little. And I care little for what anyone else would say or think. I'm in love with you Lirarwen."

From his words, it suddenly became clear why Smaug hadn't wanted for her return to Esgaroth. He had known this truth—long before finding her in the woodland realm—about Gaellyn's feelings for her. It slighted her to think that Smaug would believe she would leave him for her own brother when she did eventually find out. Lily had never been in love with a man before, but her feelings for Gaellyn would not stray past platonic, for that she was certain. The revelation of Gaellyn's feelings for her did not come off as a complete surprise in fact, not after all of the time they had spent together growing up. In later years he had been rather protective of her, but it had been easier to be accepting to those moments when she had been left so alone with only her brothers to rely on. Now she could no longer continue to brush the issue aside.

"Gaellyn stop, you should not speak of such things! You are too wonderful to ruin yourself for me," She carefully brought her hand to the roundness of his cheek, eyes soulful while she tended to him with grace. "I love you my brother, but not in the way you seek. You've been my best friend since we were young, and I care for you deeply, but it's not the same."

His eyes closed with agony, face turning into her palm as he covered her hand with his. "It's because of him. You already love another."

She said nothing, but her heart turned wild in her chest at the helplessness of loving a dragon. There was a brand of love in her heart for Smaug, but she was undecided of its nature. It was something hot and lethal, that got her drenched in sweat at the mere thought. Now was not the time to think on it of course, but she would have to come to a decision about it later. "I'm sorry Gaellyn."

"Do not apologize," Gaellyn said as be lifted away from her grasp. "I would never wish to see you in despair Lira. We could have been happy in a different life, but that is not our fate it would seem."

She smiled with sympathy, her brother's gaze returned to the warmth she had always known. He embraced her again, leaving a shy kiss on the corner of her mouth, having the decency to be tentative before intruding on her space. She made no move or trace to return the gesture, her abruptness a sure sign for him to take his leave. His exit was no louder than a phantoms breath on stone, and it left her shivering with remorse from a farewell she had not anticipated to make. The darkness surrounded her, and she strayed from thought as she watched the still surface of the water long after Gaellyn had retired for bed. A single tear ran down the apple of her cheek, breaking the top of the lake like fragile glass.

Perhaps her brother had seen more of her in those few hours of her return than she had been privy to the last few weeks of her life. So many questions remained about her history, and she had but one place to go on where to begin her search. She needed the closure so she might finally turn the page to the next part of her life, and the potential for growth. At least one of her questions was answered; she knew who she belonged with, and she was filled with the startling need to be with him right that moment. She dropped her arms to her sides, turning on her heel as her shadow was casted across the boardwalk from the light of the cider house. A tiny gasp escaped her when she nearly collided with a solid chest. He had been so sly and quick in the dark that she had not heard him approach until she was being held in his arms. A short distance separated them, and she could see in her dragon that he was brimming with fury, his eyes giving away what the rest of him would not. Lily knew that Smaug had seen everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on a Thranduil one shot for you friend (you know who you are!)


	17. Ashes of the Innocent

The body and mind of a human was truly a painful ordeal to suffer through. Smaug was spent, more so than any flight or hunt had ever taken from him. Life as a dragon was so simple, he wasn't found complicated by all of the little emotions when he was ensconced by his gold in solitude. Perhaps it had to do with this place. Lake Town, surely it was worse than he initially thought, and it continued to gain his hatred the longer he was enclosed by the walls of the small dwelling. The people were so very ordinary, simple and weak. How was it they managed without riches? And what he found worse was their sense of contentment for how they got on; as if wealth meant nothing to them but added comfort should they obtain any. Absurd!

Lily's presence here also had him on edge. They were being friendly with her because of her renewed features, and he presumed she saw through that façade. Her aloof answers made it appear as such, as if she wanted to be seen as emotionally unavailable to these people. Still, she was going out of her way to accommodate to them, and the idea that she had left him alone to tend to her brothers was deeply displeasing. He stared hard at the closed door of the home, wanting to tear it off the rusted hinges and take her from this place. Everything was stained with the salt from the lake, and it upset his senses. He had half a mind to know it wasn't the only thing, but he let himself believe it.

The bargeman's son was pacing the floor of the living room, not straying far from the mantle of the hearthstone even long after his parents had retired to their sleeping quarters. He was keeping watch, as if Smaug needed some tamer, and he knew Lily had asked it of him. The last bit of their conversation before her departing had been available to his ears, and he was infuriated that she would ask a human to be his jailer behind his back while she was away. She had such little trust in him, but then, he supposed he was the same with her, especially in regards to her older brother.

"Feeling tired yet?" Smaug asked indignantly to Bard, his new aim to antagonize the human.

"No," Bard refuted sharply. "I plan on staying awake until Lirarwen returns, so I suppose we'll keep each other company."

Smaug was caught between a smirk and a scowl at the tenacity of the youth, the confidence and challenge in his voice so unyielding. It was not often he came across such bold honesty, though he would consider it a stupid thing for one to reveal all of its secrets to a dragon. If the circumstances were different, he knew the bowman would quiver in fear, just the same as they all did when faced with his greatness.

"I wonder will you ever take your out of this place when it presents itself?" He asked acutely, referring to the last words he had heard uttered between Lily and Bard.

"That will never happen. There is no out for me; never has been, and never will be," He spun to face Smaug, expression neutral while half of his tanned face glowed from the light of the small fire wrapped around the logs in the hearth. "My ancestors were of Dale, and now of Esgaroth. I will not be the first to leave it, and there is nowhere else for me to go."

"What a limited lifestyle you lead." Smaug snorted in derision.

"Maybe to some, but not all of us are as lucky as you. Freewill to wander Middle-Earth is not something many will take a chance on. The reassurance of a warm home and the constant availability of food is what protects us. A family needs stability and routine."

Smaug sneered at the notion of family. Such an over-sentimentality that had put a restraint on the free peoples of these lands, to every corner of Middle-Earth. Dragons were not of the same minds as humans; they procreated to build numbers, but there was no sense of love and attachment between mates, or for their hatchlings. For him there had never been anyway. As far back as he could recall through his vast experiences, it was the plunder that was of deepest importance. Smaug believed he had the biggest haul to have ever been accumulated, only now there was none of his kind to boast to about it. He loved his gold, and if he was of softer voice, he would have sung sweetly to it. That was how he felt of Lily as well, though perhaps to a deeper extent because she was of breath and blood, flesh and life.

"Where will you and Lirarwen go from here, if it isn't too bold to ask?"

They locked in a stare, Smaug knowing that Bard would not be one to apologize for being bold, but he was taking care to be a gracious host, a gesture wasted on him. "And what makes you so certain we will be leaving together?"

"The look on Lirarwen's face is evidence enough. Perhaps Gaellyn and Yricyn refuse to see it, but you and I both know she will be leaving with you, whether it is tomorrow morning, or a month from now."

If he could force the decision, it would be his aim for the former. "And what has the look on her face told you?"

"That she cares for you, and she is devoted to you. I can't imagine that was formed all in the span of two days, but it is not my place to pry. For the time that Lirarwen was away, she was kept safe, and I know that was by your doing. I don't need to know anything more than that. I only ask that you make the due payment to my family before you both disappear."

Smaug's heart felt queer from the words he used to describe Lily's feelings for him. Care and devotion? He just assumed it was her kind nature, but now he was learning that there was something more to the way she treated him, and he wanted to get to the root of that for the sake of the hopeful flutter that was alive in his chest. He was spurred by the wondrous feeling to square his debt now, before he would be unable to walk away from leaving one of his treasures behind, and he carefully unpinned the brooch from inside his tunic. Bard's eyes flashed with more emotion than he had ever cared to show, and Smaug's hand shook slightly before he rested the jewel down on to the table with a dull thud. Its little weight had felt so heavy as it left his palm, and he backed away from the table, creating space before he could be tantalized by the burning ruby in the heart of the brooch, calling to him to not be left behind like a ship out at sea.

"I am certain any market in town will wish to trade you for that." He said in a strangled voice, his throat hoarse with the struggle to let go.

"That is generous, perhaps a bit more generous than I was expecting. Surely a simple ride on a barge is not worth that. I think you could purchase the Master's house with Alfrid in it with that kind of gem." Bard countered with a shaky laugh, his pride keeping him from reaching out to touch the treasure.

"It is the only means of payment I can offer you, as I have no plans to ever return to this place," Smaug told him impatiently, quickly losing interest in the humbleness being displayed. "Take it now before I change my mind."

Bard didn't hesitate in obeying the stern warning, his calloused hand coming down on the table as he snatched the brooch in hand. He swiped his thumb over the surface of the cut gem, his face reflected in the gold showing awe for the excessive payment. Smaug started for the door of the home, his tolerance for staying put all but spent as he decided to follow Lily. The bargeman's son was not so quick to ignore him however, and he pocketed the payment into the front of his mangy coat as he marched around the table after him.

"And where do you think you're going at this hour?"

"Don't be a brazen fool," Smaug snarled petulantly. "You were never going to be able to keep me here for long, and after that ridiculous sum of payment I have bestowed you with, you really have no choice but to let me walk from here. It is insult for one to take more than what is their share. Recompense must be equal Bowman."

"Yes, you definitely are not from around here, I can see it now," Bard murmured, his voice as low as his bootstraps dragging across the floor. "Leave then, but make it appear as your own doing. I respect Lirarwen too much to betray her outright."

Smaug nodded curtly, on his way outside as he felt through the connection to find Lily. He remembered the path to the cider house from where he had been taken in the last day before his egress from the town. Through the night his eyes adjusted, and he could see clearly all of the corners and details of the buildings. It was a cloudless night over Esgaroth, the moon raining down holy light on the stained planks of wood that lined the docks. His hair was inky black opposed to the pale glow of Lily's, and his coat still smelt of her since their journey from Greenwood. With her constantly clouding his senses, he wondered how much longer it would be before they were back in his mountain, isolated from the distraction of these people and the tangled web of their lives. Life was much simpler when it was the two of them facing the world without consequence, and he wanted to return to that as quickly as he could make that possible.

His eyes narrowed into slits as a flutter of feathers appeared before his face. Lily's little pet had returned, ruffled and flustered by the way his chest was puffed out. He was nattering in song, beating his wings about as he danced around Smaug's head, twirling through the air. He swatted his hand at the bird, annoyed with the insistent chirping that he was being pestered with. "Enough! If you wish to find Lily, I would ask that you keep silent about it."

The waxwing spat at him with a sharp whistle as he continued to fly overhead, following at close range as Smaug retraced the direction that Lily had gone with her brothers. A patch of light emanated from the cider house, and he could make out voices in the not so far distance ahead. He had lost track of Erugon, who had returned to the blackness of the rooftops, but he spied Lily standing still on the dock, talking in hushed tones with Gaellyn. Her little brother was not present, and he had likely been ushered upstairs for bed while the other two shared words. Lily's face was stricken with sympathy while Gaellyn spoke passionately about matters, his eyes wide and his actions exuberant. Smaug's body stiffened straight through to his blackened bones as Lily laid her hand down on her brother's cheek affectionately. The quiet tenderness of the moment broke him in ways that made him more human than dragon. His heart grew rigid in his chest, their close contact constricting his throat until he thought he would black out from the loss of breath. She was going to leave him for those people, he had known it all along and still he had allowed her to lead him here regardless. What a fool he had been, falling for the likes of sentiment, and it had all been a bold-faced lie. He silently walked closer, needing to hear what was said even as it killed him slowly like a poison in his blood.

" _I'm sorry Gaellyn."_

_"Do not apologize,_ _I would never wish to see you in despair Lira. We could have been happy in a different life, but that is not our fate it would seem."_

If that was not their fate, than what were they planning? Oh, they could not be with each other because of the shared belief amongst the town that they were siblings. So they would run away together then; how darling. He was slighted by the mere idea of it.

Smaug frowned in confusion as they embraced, serenity leaving him in abandon as he watched Gaellyn leave a kiss upon the side of her mouth. Those sweet lips of hers that had belonged to him short days ago, he had not forgotten the taste and feel of them; hidden away in his mind like another treasure to be catalogued. It had been a farce. Nothing, it was all nothing. His nails scraped at the flesh of his own palms, drawing blood as he wished to sew Gaellyn's mouth shut with diamond tether, and pull his entrails from a small slit in his belly for the crows to feast on.

Gaellyn left shortly after pulling away from a motionless Lily. He watched her for a while longer, confused over her reaction, and why she was frozen to the boards where she stood. The light breeze blew her hair off from her shoulders, and the trace of a silver tear slide down the slope of her cheek, hitting the pool of lake water, shattering the surface like crystal. What did she have to mourn for? Her guilty conscious of betraying him perhaps, but it did nothing to banish his somber mood. He advanced on her, light on his feet, stalking towards her, ready to attack. She had not seen him creeping around in the dark, and she emitted a soft gasp as she nearly walked straight through him. His hands instinctively found her arms, holding her a step back as they observed each other. Her face unveiled to show surprise, and the realization was in her eyes that she understood he had seen her with her brother.

"What did you do to Bard?" Were the first words to come out of her mouth, and he gave her a baleful smile which caused her to shudder.

"I fulfilled my promise of payment. Come now Lily, surely you did not think he would have the hold over me to keep me from following you."

"No, of course I should have known better," She berated herself with a head shake, though she chose not to break free from the grip he had on her arms. By the connection she must have felt his anger, for he was no longer focused on upholding the barrier between them. "And now you've ruined everything. I know what you think you saw, and I'm not sure how much you heard of that, but you are wrong in your assumption."

His voice lost all cheer, growling low and threatening as he pulled her to him to hiss in her ear. "It is unwise to laugh at dragons, as is it insult to tell us we are wrong. If it is these humans you love so much than go and be with them. I wish to be free of the thought of you, and you are no longer welcome in my mountain."

He shoved her back, and she stumbled slightly. Smaug expected her face to have melted into some form of despair that she would be blubbering in tears with an apology on her lips. So casual was the face he was met with, Lily's mouth forming into a thin line while she crossed her arms sardonically. "Very well, I shall go to bed then."

She tried to sidestep past him, but he quickly blocked her, bringing her back in front of him with a large scowl on his face. "Do not test me Lily. I have no patience for games."

"It is not a game," Her nose crinkled like paper as if he had just delivered her disrespect. "I can see you're in a mood, and you won't listen to whatever explanation I supply, so I shall wait until you are feeling more rational in the morning."

He refused to release her when she tried to move again, his brow sinking into a deep furrow as he searched for signs of deception. "And what makes you think I shall be inclined to listen to you in the morning? You have chosen to stay amongst these people who would ridicule you behind your back, and after I have offered you greatness."

"I'm not staying in Lake Town," She argued. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you let your brother touch you, lay hands on you. You are weak with feelings of sentimentality and love. All you have ever desired was acceptance, and now you have that."

"But don't dragon's express love too?" Her voice had turned soft, his rage striking her down as her resilience faded.

"We love gold, and the ruin brought to those beneath us. Nothing more."

"I see." While her face remained as impassive as a statue, Smaug could feel her heart wither in cold sadness, like a rose to frost, that transferred to him through the bond.

Who was she to carry the overbearing weight of misery? He was the only one losing something, yet she selfishly allowed herself to be pitied. She would receive none from him. "And I know you will not remain here; how could you when you continue to pursue what everyone else perceives as an incestuous relationship. I have known since my previous arrival of Gaellyn's feelings for you, and he must be so elated that you return them."

Her mouth flew opened the tiniest bit as she struggled to speak. "If you knew all along, why didn't you tell me in the first place?"

"You are right to question that decision Liliana. I could have saved myself the hindrance of accompanying you when I knew all along that you would join with him."

"But I haven't—" She tried to reach for his arm, but he wrenched his body away from her touch.

"Don't!" He barked. "You are too filthy to lay your hands on me. Save that for your brother. You have no greatness, and you shame your kind by being the last, once you chose a human."

Her eyes were black under the sky of night, but he could see her tears were close to falling, like the breaking of a dam ready to release. Her hair closed around her cheeks like curtains, and she kept her face down as she turned away from him, back in the direction of Bard's home as fast as her legs could carry her. The expansion between them grew as she ran away, the distance felt through the bond as much as it was through sight. His chest hurt violently, an intense hold wrapped around the black muscle; Lily's chains squeezing the very life from him as he felt the hurt in his words come back to him.

Erugon swooped down from a hidden trough on the peak of a rooftop, pecking at the flesh on his hand repeatedly in retaliation for wounding Lily. He snarled at the bird before thwacking it with his hand, sending it in a whirl through the air. The waxwing screeched in protest as he caught himself midflight before he took off after his master, leaving Smaug alone with the consequences of what he had done. It was like the feeling of being doused with a bucket of icy water; his muddled thoughts that had been twisted in anger were suddenly becoming clear, and he was filled with loss and dread.

It should have been Gaellyn to take her place. The faults of an insignificant human boy, and it tore a gap between them, one that he did not know how to bridge. The taste of hot metallic blood was on his tongue, a most insatiable thirst to kill that human for the mess he had made. A part of him recognized that he himself was also to blame. He had responded with such apathy to his own black jealousy that he had let it control him, tearing into Lily like a knife through her back. He would surrender to nothing. This dance they had started in had hit a snag, causing them both to stumble, but it had not stopped completely, and he would lift them both back up and force it to continue through the broken melody if it came to that. The connection wasn't severed; he could still feel Lily's anguish, and it made his stomach clench unpleasantly, like he had just ingested rancid meat.

He picked up his feet, his loss of control vanquished as he pressed forward after his Lily whom he had unintentionally harmed in his fury. Lake Town was sinisterly quiet, and he doubted if the streets had ever been so deserted. Around every corner, eyes could be watching, and no doubt many of the local spies were in ties with Alfrid and the Master. The opinions of humans were low on his itemized scale of importance, and so he cared little if they watched him. If ever he was to return to Esgaroth, it would not be as a man. Such as it was, he felt nothing for this place, and even through hospitality that had not changed.

There was no light shining through the windows as he returned outside to the bargeman's family home. Erugon was perched outside, Lily not quite distraught enough to bring a bird into the home had left him at the door, and judging by the window he was guarding, Smaug surmised that to be the room she was keeping to in the dwelling. As his hand grabbed the splintering rail, he only hoped that Bard would not be there to provide a lecture. Perhaps the bowman would not be so quick to judge if he knew of his friend's habitual interest in his supposed sister. However it was of no concern for Smaug, because as he entered through the front door, there was no presence in the sitting room, and the logs in the hearth had grown cold since being lit a short time ago.

He shut the door behind him; keeping sure it clicked into place without making a loud thud to disturb the quiet of the dwelling in the middle of the night. Through his nose he could still smell the distinct odor of the charred fish they had eaten, and the cheap white soap that had cleansed the dishes in the murky sink water. Lily's faint scent was masked because of it, but he already knew she was there, and he shadowed quietly down the hall to the sleeping quarters, going through the door of the room she had changed in earlier that same day. Funny. It seemed that beautiful moment was long behind them now.

He pulled back on the doorknob and his heart clenched at the sight of her, pathetically huddled into a ball on the floor as if she had fallen there and hadn't bothered to stand and walk to the available bed. Her back was facing him as she feigned sleep. He could still hear her heart hammering away, and the slightest intake of breath she had drawn as he had entered the room had also given her away, so he knew she was still conscious. He allowed for his footsteps to be loud enough for her to hear as he approached, and then Smaug found himself doing something he would have never imagined himself to do in the past; his knees bent down into a kneel, and he sprawled himself on to the musty rug beside her. The idea of it was heinous. Smaug the magnificence, lying down on the floor of a human's hovel. Why he found his stature to be no better than that of a dogs at that moment. Regardless, he kept his annoyance aside to turn his head and look at Lily.

Her hair was reachable to him, dispersed across the floor in a river of lavender and silver. She had her arms hugged around her torso, stopping her shakes from racking her body while she ignored his presence. He let out a sigh—more of a huff really—as he brushed her hair back from her neck with deft fingers. She responded instantly—taking his touch as permission—rolling around and falling into his chest, her face buried into his tunic as she gripped at it tightly to muffle her sobs. He rested his head atop hers, rubbing his chin against the smooth hairs of the crown of her head as he held her loosely in his arms.

"I have nowhere else to go." She cried between gasps of air.

"Then don't go," He murmured to her, causing her wails to cease and her body to still. Her head lifted up to look at him, red and blotchy with her precious tears that he had caused to fall. It should have been criminal for her to waste her gift so haphazardly on harsh words he had spoken. Dragon's did not apologize, but he brought his lips down to her forehead, lingering in a chaste kiss as he uttered words again. "Don't go."

"I love Gaellyn . . . as my brother, but I can't stay with him," She mumbled while rubbing furiously at her eyes to stop the tears. The tips of her fingers glistened from the sliver of light peering into the room, and she carefully brought her hand to his chest, her face full of question as she carefully pulled back the collar of his tunic whilst laying half of her body on top of his chest. He would have only had to part his thighs and she would be slotted nice and snug between his legs if he wished it, but he was much more entranced by her actions as her fingers searched out the scar on his chest. She swiped the damp across the abrasion, like frosting over cake. A frown pouted her lips when the magic did not take. "Nothing's happening."

"Because it is not a scar," he clasped her one hand between his two, gently prying her away from the flaw. He kissed her wet fingertips in gratitude, a portion of the slippery substance crawling between his lips and on to his tongue. Lily's tears was not like the oxidized copper taste from the blood of animals he had ingested so many times before, and nor did they remind him of pure water. This was sweet, warm and thin, like a wisp of wind passing through his mouth. It was Lily. "You cannot fix me Lily."

"I will try, that is, if I can stay with you," Her eyes held innocent pleading, but he could feel her excitement through the bond. "What made you so angry before, that you would not believe me?"

"His actions provoked me. We are bonded, and I hold a claim over you just as you hold over me. He overstepped his bounds when he touched you. Kissed you."

"As he is my brother I would have always said no, but I feel I should tell you that he proposed marriage as an idea." She was unapologetically honest just as he was unapologetically dragon, and his response did nothing to shock her as he growled, flipping them over until she was on her back with him hovering above on solid arms.

"Do not forget there is a beast inside this body, and he is hungry for you." The predator in him wanted to eat her alive.

Her eyes flashed, darting to the window for a moment before she was watching his face. "Should I be hiding out there with Erugon then?"

He chuckled at her passion, completely besotted with the shy and conservative girl beneath him as he trailed his nose up and down the curve of her neck. "Am I forgiven?"

"No." She said defiantly.

His eyes clouded with the influence she had over him, unbelieving to her bluntness. He was frustrated at her and because of her, pulling away until he was seated down on the floor, his legs opened with his back ramrod straight. Lily sat up after him, deliciously happy without showing how relieved she was now that their quarrel had ended. While he might have lusted and longed for her physically; what he wanted from her most of all was her smile.

"Come here Lily, and let me make my apologies to you."

"I don't know if I should." He could see she was thinking through all of his possible motives, sharp as her brain was, even if she was often too quiet to voice her thoughts.

"But you want to. I can see it on your face, and feel it in your blood."

His voice was sinfully heavy as he spoke, and he welcomed her between his thighs as she crossed the short distance across the floor. He shifted her until her back was resting into his chest, her unsure limbs falling carelessly into her lap as she kept her legs tight together. The dragon in him was violent, carnal, and consuming, but for her he would try to be gentler, if he could help it. He slid his large hands down the thinness of her arms, reaching her clenched hands as he skillfully coaxed her fingers to open with his.

"Will you let me lead you?"

"Yes."

Though her voice was uncertain, he could feel through the bond that she wanted more, equal parts aroused and curious. He tucked his nose against the crook of her neck, inhaling her hair while she tilted her head back into him. With his hand leading, he slowly raised their left arms together, having her fingers tease her own flesh under the hem of the cheap tunic, causing priceless moans as they reached her fleshy mounds.

"Hush lovely, you must be silent."

She acknowledged with a stiff nod, choking on a gasp as their combined touch brushed across her nipple. The little bud hardened, darkening with the rush of blood as he could recall to from before. His fingers only ghosted over her flesh as he played the puppeteer to her self-pleasure. He had her digits pinching and groping her delicate breast while their other conjoined hands started to sink slower to the front of her cotton trousers.

"Open for me Lily." He commanded of her locked legs.

They parted without hesitation, the warmth of her loins tangible through the fabric. Isolation with her was what he had coveted for, and while he refused to take her in a house of humans, he would very well have his fun. He did like to play rough after all, and Lily's responses to his apology were well worth the risk.

"Tell me what you want Lily, what you are craving for."

"Touch me, please Smaug, touch me."

He didn't think to ask her to beg, and he knew the reason for it. For her to ask for his caresses so freely; it was more than he could have hoped for. He was so used to taking, that he had almost forgotten the joy of offers, and he would grant her request without pause. Slowly, and with her permission, he lowered their interlocked hands into the front of her trousers, seeking the heat that was clothed and hidden. His hands felt like claws with the control she granted him, and he had her pawing in sensual circles on herself, her index finger tracing anti-clockwise around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her opening. With his other hand still at her chest, he positioned her opened palm around her breast, squeezing once before withdrawing.

"Do not move that hand." He commanded while he used his free one to carefully shimmy the cotton material down her rump and over her thighs so she would not be constricted. He bit back a moan at the feeling of her soft and naked bottom brushing up against his groin, his trousers regrettably tightening as he kept her close in his lap. He would have to forget about his own needs tonight, focusing on making Lily his once again with his attentions.

He continued to guide her along, both of their fingers stained with her juices that were flowing out from her slick slit, the folds coated in the sweet substance as their hands explored her together. Though his fingers were larger, Lily too had long and steely digits that aided in her pleasure, and she whimpered a soft sound as one of each of their fingers penetrated shallowly into her core.

"Please . . . I just want you to touch me." She inclined her neck sideways, gazing up at him with eyes blackened in strange desire.

It was not in his power to refuse her when she looked so in charge of what she yearned for, and not wanting to rob her of that, he allowed for her to withdraw her own hand from her depths, but not before he pinned a grasp on her wrist, the fingers shining from where they had been.

"Taste yourself. I need you to." He nipped at the skin beneath her ear, feeling her pulse as she brought her own essence to her mouth and drank like she was parched for water. Her lids grew heavy as she sucked her tips clean, her lips glossy as she removed her fingers, her tongue darting out one last time to tease for his benefit while she shot him a bold smirk. "Lie down for me Lily, and silence yourself from what I am about to do."

His chest felt cold as he moved away from her in order for her to stretch out across the rug. The hardness in his trousers would not relent, and it made it difficult for him to maneuver around before her parted legs. She shook slightly from nerves, but she was already parted at the knees, baring herself to him. Her core was flushed and swollen from attention, pink beneath the patch of pale hair, and her thighs were stained with the affirmation of her approval.

He crawled between the space with his hands pulling greedily to remove the material completely from her legs, stopping to kiss each ankle after the cuff of each pant leg had been removed. Taking a hold of the reins—or rather her hips—he yanked her to him until he was situated completely before her flower. He hoisted each one of her legs over his shoulders, her feet crossing at the ankles at their own accord at his shoulder blades while he started a trail with his tongue up her inner thigh. She shrieked into her fist that she was now biting on to mercilessly to stifle her sounds. If he had had her back in his mountain, her cries would have echoed across the expanse of his hoard, and he promised he would have her makes these sounds again in his home, if only to test out the acoustics.

"You are so deep in the heart of me Liliana. I think I will keep you forever." He murmured to her, catching her blazed eyes before he licked up her slit in one long stroke. Her eyes snapped shut in surrender, the muscles in her legs clenching tight around his head to bring him closer. The tip of his tongue dug deep, slipping between her nether lips and playing at her entrance as he drank from her fountain. His nails sank into the flesh of her hips, feeling as she rose off of the floor every time his tongue penetrated her. He could still hear the muted moans that she tried in vain to hide, and it only spurred him further with his actions. His lips were glossed from her creamy arousal, the thin curls tickling his nose as he delved around her clit with his mouth, sucking and nipping as she poured out a lake of sugar that he continued to drown in. It had been so long since he had tasted anything sweet that he could almost not recall the taste. Lily could be his dessert; he doubted if he would grow tired of her anytime soon. Once captured by fascination in something, it was hard to let go.

Switching his position, he slid one hand free from the vice-like grip on her hip to touch her with his hand again. Her senses appeared to bloom before him as he glided a finger into her heat, the soft walls hugging around the digit like taut silk, and he dared not insert another, fearing that the stretch would cause her pain that would distract from the goal of his ministrations. She was unmistakably pure, his angel tight and undamaged, waiting to forever be claimed by him alone. He would fit so snug in her, buried deep to the hilt until they would both lose themselves in each other, unable to separate as he thrust deep inside her soaking pussy with his cock. The thought drove him mad, and he began to pump his finger in and out of her core, hooking and curling within her walls to rub at that sweet spot that made her hips drive forward in rapture. His lips were still circled around her clit, tongue poking and prodding at the little nub as she started to quiver in release while shaking from the restraint of keeping silent. Her walls clenched in spasms around his digit, the last of her orgasm dripping onto his hand and down the inside of her parted legs as she sobbed with bliss into her hand.

She was motionless as he lapped up her juices, cleaning her properly with his mouth while her hands found his hair, threading through the locks and tugging slightly as if to call for his attention. He rose up on his arms, letting her drop her legs from his shoulders before he crawled up the length of her body to her clothed torso. Her half-lidded eyes were filled with quiet delight as she clasped her hands behind his neck to pull his coated mouth to hers. She seemed eager to taste herself, half curious and half daring from the high of her ecstasy. His hardened shaft was at level with the heat still pouring from her depths, and what he would have liked to follow after devouring her was to flip her over and mount her savagely from behind. It would not happen here though, and he grew content with the playful kiss Lily had him trapped in, her mouth eating up the remains of her arousal from his previous affections.

"Am I forgiven?" He asked with a heavy breath as he pulled back to hover over her half clothed body.

"Yes," She blushed slightly, the realization of her first experience dawning on her, yet she remained bold enough to trail a hand down his chest, stopping at the rim of his trousers as she felt him through the material. "I want to feel this inside of me." Lily whispered as she cupped him firmly.

His eyes closed and he growled into her shoulder. "Don't do that to me Lily, not here."

She ran her hand up his stiff cock once more before pulling her hand back to herself to give him the chance to calm down. This had all been for her, and for now he was satisfied despite the straining trouble in his trousers. He moved to pick her up off the unforgiving floor along with her discarded garments so that she might get dressed before the morning. She was light in his arms, clinging to him like a child as he deposited her on to the bed. He noticed her wounded hand as it slid from place around his neck, the flesh red with bite marks freshly indented from her efforts to suppress the moans. He laid a kiss over the glaring injury as he sat beside her on the bed, bringing her head down to rest against his chest as the feathered mattress sank with their weight.

"Keeping silent was a harder task for you than I realized." He commented quietly as she pulled the duvet over both of them.

"Oh you know it was," She mumbled with a slight pout into his tunic that he did not see. "You make me want to scream."

"Good. I'll enjoy that in days to come." He inhaled deeply, the combination of her scent and the dust of the unkempt room blended into a heady fragrance that made him drowsy.

She sighed into him, sleep coming to her quickly as he combed his fingers continuously through her hair from root to end, the curls snagging and unfurling until they were smoothed from the disheveled state they had been left in after writhing on the rug. The dragons blood in him was singing a song higher than a hymn, and his chest was burning with pride and fire. Lily was his, and tomorrow they would all know it. Before the sun would set on Lake Town, Gaellyn would suffer, and he would have his revenge.

 


	18. Hand in Hand

Lily woke gently into the morning, her back curved at an angle as she was sprawled out against Smaug who was still sleeping. She blinked rapidly, her legs kicking out into a stretch beneath the duvet while she moved her arms over her head. The horizon brought the dawn, the room being bathed in a dark glow of orange across the wooden interior. The walls were breathing with the silent sighs of those still in slumber in the home, and Lily sat herself up quietly as she observed the area of the room. The rug on the floor was out of place and rolled up at the corner beside the bed, and she blushed with the knowledge of what had caused its displacement.

Her hand sank into the soft texture of the pillow as she pushed herself upwards, causing Smaug's arm to slide down her waist from where he had held her through the night. Whether it was natural or not did not occur to her as she realized she was completely smitten with him, be him man or dragon. Her love was vast, and she could share it with all parts of him, each to her liking as she acknowledged she had her own inner beast that resided in her heart. It was important to her to want to please him and to never disappoint, and perhaps because she was still pondering how Smaug's feelings worked in correspondence to her. His anger and jealously from the previous night was a reflection of what he felt, and though initially startled by his tirade, she was now relieved by the indirect answer his ardent response had shed light on.

Feeling dauntless, she maneuvered her legs over his lap until she was straddling him, letting her fingers crawl up his chest as she nibbled at his earlobe with her teeth. Immediately a deep sound resonated from his chest, his eyes fluttering under his lids while his hands ran up the backs of her thighs, squeezing the soft flesh with the pads of his fingers. She giggled as she felt him blow out a breath onto her neck, alerting her to the man awake in the bed with her.

"What are you doing Lily?" He asked, his voice still filled with the gravel of a deep and satisfying sleep.

"Enjoying you until the sun rises completely. Once the day starts, we will have to get moving," She pulled away from her playful teasing to give him an impish smile, noting that her tone was somewhat commanding. She couldn't help but feel a new power coursing through her, no doubt bestowed by him since he had left his imprint on her. "We can't stay here forever."

"I am relieved to hear you say that," He said, his eyes opening fully, losing that heavy stare even as he pulled her closer until her chest was flush with his. She blushed as he ran his hands up her thighs, stopping once they reached her round bottom to rest contently, making her all the more aware of the fact that she had no trousers on to shield his touches even as the length of the tunic kept her from his sight. It was hard for her not to be shy when he was looking at her so blatantly with those fiery eyes, and without a trace of apology for his casual viewing. "Have I made you feel timid?"

Her answer was to place a kiss to his mouth, sweeter than tea on a hot summer day, and as refreshing. She felt him smile as he nipped back at her bottom lip with his fangs, everything about him speaking predator even as he remained a man. A breathless moan passed from her lips as she felt his right hand travel around from her backside to her front where he delved lightly between her thighs. He rubbed tenderly at her soft heat, her legs—up until that point—had been holding her up with strength before her muscles started to quiver and melt like sap from a tree.

"Regrettably, I don't think we have time for that." She whispered as she broke away from his full lips.

"Pity," He murmured in return, his hand leaving her naked core. "Another time then."

She gingerly brought her leg back over to the empty side of the bed, moving out of his hold while she reached for her neatly folded trousers. Only just noticing them at the end of the bed now, she couldn't remember how they had ordered themselves there in a neatly fashion, but she assumed Smaug had something to do with it. He was almost being chivalrous to protect her dignity, though the beast in him had already laid hands on her that early morning, negating the act all together. It was no bother to her.

"I wish to speak with one of my guardians before we leave," She spoke up as she slid the material back up the length of her legs. Shifting on her bum, she turned to face Smaug who was watching her with keen interest that always managed to make her lose focus and feel disconcerted. Summoning her courage, she pushed herself to continue before she could succumb to the look and lose her nerve. "They might hold the key to unlocking my foggy past, or at the very least have answers to where I came from."

"I agree," Her face held surprise to which he responded with a nefarious smirk. "Is it so hard to believe that I want to know more about where you came from?"

"No, but it makes me wonder."

"You still doubt me?" He surmised bluntly, and she contained a wince from his tone.

"I'm a cautious person. I just like to know everything about a person before I put my implicit faith in them, and perhaps it's because of living here for so long."

"A lingering effect no doubt," Smaug agreed as he rose up from the bed. "It is not a fault. I am not quick to trust either."

"I know I will trust you though. I'm nearly there already," She promised with a soft smile. "Now come. If we get an early start, perhaps we can make our way across the lake by the evening."

There was still the issue of transforming back to be able to fly into the Lonely Mountain, but Lily felt as if they were getting closer to achieving that as their bond strengthened. The feeling was deep inside of her, to a place she could only recall to the last two other times she had transformed. It manifested in Smaug as well, she could see just by the change of his eyes and the abrupt fierceness of his anger that the dragon within was yearning to burst forth, much as he would when he would take flight, and Lily longed for the chance to see his great fire and the span of his wings again. His body had been burning as he brushed against her naked thighs the night before, and she had half a mind to think they would both turn to ash if a change didn't come soon.

Lily's footsteps ghosted across the floor while Smaug took two long strides to follow. She clasped onto to the small iron handle, turning the knob as it opened into the dimly lit hallway. The only voices in the dwelling were of their breathing as they made their way past the other bedrooms to the large sitting area. The floor was sprinkled in a cold chill, and the inside of the hearth was ashen and bleak as a cave with no life with the log sitting lonely on the grate. Lily rubbed her arms a few good times to get the blood rushing beneath her flesh, while off to the side Smaug sampled the air with his acute sense of smell.

"Many will have gone to market and the docks before daybreak. Bard's father isn't likely here now, and maybe even Bard himself has ventured out." Lily informed him, privy to the routine of those in Esgaroth.

"Then we should find your guardians now before they should become overwhelmed by the rest of the people." He said  _people_ with a slight sneer of disgust, not shy of his dislike of her home as he gave up entirely on being civil about it.

Lily stepped into her shabby boots while giving him a thin look. "Not very patient are you?"

"No." He stated bluntly.

With the importance of unveiling her past hanging on the line, she would have to disregard Smaug's hostility, or at least be sure not to set it off. She made it to the door first, him falling right behind out on to the balcony of the home. Erugon was nowhere in sight, after having spent most of the night by her window, she hoped he had found a safe place to take roost. The boats paddling in the water below were already filling with people as they pushed between the rows of lodges, patient with their lines in hands just waiting for a fish to bite. Some took notice of their departure from the home, but their gazes were quickly drawn back to the water whenever a ripple on the surface was mistaken for a fish bobbing on the line. Such a mundane existence that Lily had never really taken notice of before until now, and with great detail. Her time spent with Smaug was making her more aware of the world around her, but she did not feel as though she would ever be of superficial mind, lusting over gold and prosperity. She would leave that to the dragon.

They walked single file down the narrow set of steps, Lily clinging to the splintery railing where the wood was darkened and splitting after being waterlogged from the moisture of the lake, and the rain that fell. She leapt off of the last step with accidental grace, finding that not tripping on herself was a good feeling to have as she stood-stock still on the planks waiting for Smaug to join her. At first she was jolted with surprise as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her close as they walked, but the shock was slowly ebbed away as she took his strength to support herself, uncaring to the judging looks of the Lake Town denizens.

His fingers transferred heat through the tunic to the flesh of her hip, and she could feel the possessive nature through the hold, rolling off him like plumes of smoke from a chimney stack. He was feeling territorial, his display a threat to those who dared come near. While Lily wasn't overly fond of his sense of ownership over her, she let him keep his hand in place, knowing after the previous night he had earned the right, and maybe she even liked it—just a little bit.

As they were a decent way into the heart of the town, Lily notices Bard in the distance, bartering hardheartedly with a merchant over something shiny in his hand. Lily recognized the brooch she had taken with her from the mountain. She was bristled with hope that Smaug had kept to his word in giving payment to Bard and his family, but she also was overwhelmed by guilt that he was to lose one of his treasures because of coming to aid her.

"Isn't that all a bit much to be leaving with Bard and his family? One little trip down river and you give them something that's worth more than the barge they make a living off of."

"It was two trips," He said, reminding her of their way back, even as Bard had declared it to be a free journey with her presence aboard. "And I am content to leave it at that. I value you more than any treasure, and if I am forced to part with one of a lower scale than I will do so with as little chagrin as I can muster."

She understood that was a difficult thing for him, and she appreciated the honesty that came from his lips as she leaned her body in closer to his. The reassurance of his touch was of great comfort to her, considering that they were coming upon her old home around the corner. The cider house was mostly vacant during the day save for the lunch hour when everyone broke away from work for an hour. The scent of apple and spice was strong, hitting her square in the face until she thought her eyes might water. The heady smell only grew in power as they opened the creaky door to the house, stepping inside as they took a survey of the tables. What few patrons there were had all stopped mid-sip to look at the newcomers. Recognition was present on many of the faces as they were regarded by the stares, though Lily wanted to shy away from the mild shock that continued to be thrown her way because of her shift in appearance.

A glass mug was dropped at the counter as the barmaid behind it spun around to look at them. The woman's surprise quickly melted into the innate frown Lily was accustomed to when directed at her, but it had been a long while since she had spoken with her female guardian. "What are you doing here?" She hissed, unfazed by the few patrons that now looked uncomfortable with the building tension bridging the gap between the door and the bar.

"I wish to speak with you," Lily said with as much of a steady voice as she could conjure. "I will not take up much of your time, I promise."

"I have nothing to say to you, or to your strange friend," Her face was quickly turning red while she waved a dishrag frenetically in her hand at them. Lily felt embarrassed by her old guardian's actions, especially in front of Smaug. While he might have presumed his own conclusion about her upbringing here, he was now getting a preview into the window of reality. "Leave me and my family alone!"

"They're my brothers; I had every right to speak with them." Lily argued fervently.

"Get out Lirarwen!" The woman screeched in return, causing some of the patrons to clear out quickly.

Lily took a bold step forward before she felt a hand wrap around her forearm, tugging her back a bit. Smaug's expression was guarded as she turned to look over her shoulder at him, his want to protect her apparent. She gave him a look, telling him silently that she could handle whatever the spastic woman would dish out. It was something Lily was adjusted to, and she did look a mess with her dark graying hair falling out from her braid as she stood still behind the counter. The wrinkles on her dress were unsightly paired with the dirtied apron, and she forever carried that scorned look on her aged face that was marred by crows feet and thin lines drawn around her mouth. Before Lily had departed from Lake Town, her family had not associated with working at the cider house despite living in the upstairs loft. As she had overheard Bard saying, things were tough all over, and this was the evidence of what had become of them.

"Please, I must speak with you," Lily pleaded with conviction. "I know what I am."

That stopped the woman in her tracks, her hand frozen on the stair banister before she could depart up to the sanctuary of her home. She turned back on her heels, her eyes less clouded with rage as she rationally observed Lily, Smaug's presence seeming oblivious to her for the moment. "You know what you are; what does that mean?"

Lily scoffed derisively. "Don't insult my intelligence; you know what I am speaking of."

"And I believe your home would be a much more suitable place to have this conversation, away from ears that are gaping to listen." Smaug interjected.

"Alright," Her expression was torn, but she lacked the restraint to continue to refuse them. "But after this, I want you away from me, and from my family. You've bothered them enough."

Lily conceded with a simple nod of her head, following after the trudging footfalls of her guardian as she led the way upstairs. Smaug's hand was at her back once more, the ghost of a touch felt through the garment in comfort as he followed at the back, having to crouch in order to fit his large stature through the stair. To Lily, it felt like a foreign place, even if she had walked that same path a hundred and one times before. It was now a faraway place, and she would not be going back to it again after today.

They passed through the threshold of the home without hassle, but its bowels were as quiet as winds blowing through an open field. The husband was down at the docks by this hour, and Lily could only speculate where her brothers had run off to.

"No one else will be joining us?" She asked while surveying the look of her old shelter.

"No, and I find that preferable," The woman she had come to know as mother made no effort to hold back on her indignant feelings towards her. She landed herself down gracelessly into one of the dusty armchairs, not wasting her good manners on offering them any food or drink to partake in, not that Lily or Smaug was particularly starved. "Sit down. I want to hear about what you think you know."

Lily didn't care for the condescending tone that was used, but she took a seat nonetheless, with Smaug joining her by her side on the old sofa. A cloud of dust escaped from the cushions as they dispersed their weight on to the piece of furniture, and Lily grew nervous as the moment now only felt all too real.

"What I know is the truth. Don't try to play it off as if you're ignorant to what I am," Lily snapped with all the fire of a volcano. "You had hoped I would bring you prosperity when you found me along the Celduin that day. Phoenix tears are such a rarity; I can't imagine who you would have tried to sell them too."

"The wood elves . . . maybe," The woman was now completely flustered, her answers weedy as she rubbed her sweating palms on her apron. "But how were we to believe you were just a phoenix? More likely some form of conjurer with the way you transformed into a human before we even docked back here in Lake Town. We were already poor with our first son, and we did not want a daughter also."

Lily was forgiving to the sneer she received, a small part of her grateful that they had taken her into their lives, opening up their home to her when they didn't have to. "You've seen my true face then?"

"Of course. Why else would we have kept you?" She huffed mockingly. "A small part of us hoped you would yet change back and be restored to glory."

"You caged me to profit from me," Since discovering what she was, Lily always feared that answer despite knowing in her heart it was the truth, but the blatant honesty cut her deeply all the same "Were there others like me, did you see?"

Her old guardian looked startled by her ardent questions, as if thinking she was about to lunge. Lily did not wish her harm though. She just wanted to learn of her past, and she cared little about appearing desperate. "No, you were alone on the bank. I remember seeing a great pile of bright gold and red feathers, and you were lying with an injury on your chest. Something must have attacked you, maybe for the same reason why we took you in, who am I to guess? No one came to claim you before we took you back here."

Lily had her mouth opened in question, unable to recall ever being injured with lack of scars alluding to such a tale, but Smaug took his chance to speak before she could. "What evidence was there that she was attacked?"

The woman stood, gesturing for them to wait a moment while she left the living room in favor of the hallway of bedrooms. Lily looked to Smaug for an explanation, but his look was passive, even as he gave the occasional comforting squeeze to her hand with his larger one. Her brothers' mother returned a moment later with two curious objects in her hands, one she quickly bestowed to Lily without actually having to touch her.

"One of my feathers?" Lily questioned as she twirled the long feather in her hand. It was brilliantly scarlet, longer than the length of her arm and as taut and straight as a dagger.

"They were scattered along the shore where we found you. We kept that one as proof, and maybe to convince ourselves that we weren't fooled by what we saw that day."

"Well, I'm here now confessing to that truth, so I suppose you don't have to worry about that," Lily bit back dryly as she looked to the other object she had brought forth. "Is that an arrow?"

""It was stuck right through you, under the right wing. You were bleeding quite heavily, but we gathered that someone was not aiming to kill."

Only to maim to capture her for her tears. It seemed now that there was never a time in which one had simply wanted her for anything other than her healing properties. That was the defining aspect of her relationship with Smaug. He saw beyond the depths of her powers and what she could be to him, and as a dragon, that was thought to be inconceivable to see outside the lines of worth. It dawned on her that she could not survive without him; not anymore.

"May I see that, please?" She asked, gently holding her hand out forward. The woman wordlessly handed her the weapon into her fingers. The wood was stained dark from old blood that had crusted along the stem. Her blood. The stone arrowhead, while had once been sharp had now dulled, and the feathered end was ruffled and thinned. She figured the feather was either of crow or raven, black and menacing.

Uneducated in the ways of warfare, the look of the arrow was unfamiliar to her, and she could not recall ever being injured with one. The body of the arrow was brittle, as if any small amount of force would be enough to break it. Lily allowed her eyes to fall shut in attempt to discipline her mind and manipulate the memories to form. In the hazy fog she could relive the sharp pain in her chest, the air in her lungs turning to ice as she fell from the sky at a rapid and alarming rate. She could hear the plucking of a bow string, and of an arrow releasing into the wild, shooting straight through to her as she plummeted through branch and leaf alike until hitting water and stone.

The vision began to fade until everything was blotted out like a sun on the eve of a storm. The feeling of so suddenly being thrown back into her old family home left her gasping, and she clung tightly to the arm of the couch until she was able to catch her breath. Maybe only seconds had passed since she had fallen into a state, because her previous guardian did not look concerned over her. Not that Lily was anticipating such a reaction from the woman. She never did show much care her way.

"Do you know this weapon?" Lily was asked rather insensitively by her.

"I cannot remember who or what attacked me I'm afraid, but I will take your word that something had crossed my path before you." Lily was bitter about having to admit that. The small admission was a defeat in her eyes, a loss of power to a person who had lacked any kindness towards her innumerable times in the past.

With her hand, she reached out to Smaug for comfort, grateful for his presence beside her. But something had changed. In the time it took for Lily to receive the arrow and go through her vision. Smaug had grown stiff. His jaw was tight, and the look in his eyes dismal. A kind of fire breathed within him that could level a village in just a pinch. Lily felt her own hand shake as she grabbed on to him, both women now startled by the silence that plagued him. "Do you know this arrow Sm—Caladrieng?" She was quick to cover her blunder of almost calling him by his true title, though it didn't seem likely that anyone would have noticed if she had.

He grabbed it from her abruptly before snapping it in half in such a rage. "It is a dwarf arrow." He all but growled before rising from the couch in a display of fury.

Lily was almost swallowed up by the anger she felt through the bond, even as Smaug left her alone in her old home. Gaellyn's mother looked frightened by what had just transpired, and Lily took that as her cue to leave and follow after Smaug before he found himself in trouble with the residents of the town. They had been walking on eggshells around the place as it was, and anyone would be looking for a reason to pass judgement on them. It was known to her that Alfrid was always lurking in the shadows.

She grabbed her feather off the table before leaving, stuffing it under her tunic and into the waistband of her trousers so she wouldn't accidentally drop it behind somewhere. Sprinting down the stairs hard, she hit each step with her boot clad feet as she rushed to catch up with her rampaging dragon. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, a slow burn making its way through her body as she grew with worry over his reaction. She understood Smaug's hate for dwarves, but she had not been prepared for something as small as an arrow to stimulate that type of a response from him. It made her wonder what else he knew, but hadn't yet spoken of to her.

The cider house had resumed course since they had gone upstairs, though the few patrons looked her way as she leapt off the last step, out of breath and entirely distraught. "That fellow you were with, you just missed him leaving. Gripping his head and looking quite angry too." An old man at the bar told her as he sipped slowly on his cider.

"Thank you." She didn't have time to waste meager words with the man, nor did want to.

She shoved the door with force with the heel of her hand as she stepped out into the daylight on the boardwalk. The sun was brighter than she had ever remembered it being, and she had to shield her eyes with one arm while she searched around for Smaug's figure in the crowd. He would not have returned to Bard's home, but she could not infer where he might have gone. All she could feel through the bond was an ancient hate, one she could not comprehend. Her feet started towards the docks, a place where she had once gone when she had sought escape from her home, and it had led her across the Long Lake to the ruins of Dale. She surmised that Smaug would do anything to be closer to his home, and it was the best place to see the Lonely Mountain clear ahead in the distance. Shouldering her way through the masses, her legs started to pick up speed as she ran after him, panting hard while her eyes tightened with emotion. No one really paid her any notice, unlike the startled looks she once received when cruising the town. Now she was too worried over Smaug to fret over such matters.

The docks were only a short sprint ahead, and as the crowd thinned she could see A lone figure, tall and dark standing at the edge to the lake water. He was hunched forward, looking wounded as he held one hand to his heart and the other to his head. Lily could not make out the details of his face, but she knew his eyes to be closed and his lips to be parted with a snarl. Horrified, she watched helplessly as his strength waned and he gave into the power of whatever was attacking his body. He disappeared from sight, falling into the lake with a splash before she could ever make a reach for him.

"No . . ." She said breathlessly before running forward towards where he had tumbled, only to be caught around the waist by a sudden force.

"Lirarwen!" The familiar voice cried, and her eyes turned to Gaellyn's as she struggled to get out of his hold. "I was looking for you, but Bard's mum said you got an early start."

"Gaellyn, let go of me!" She snapped, ignoring anything he had said as she jostled free of his arms. "I have to get to him."

"Get to who? What's wrong Lira?" He asked, completely oblivious to what she was trying to do.

"He fell into the lake, didn't you see?" It seemed impossible that she had been the only one to see and hear Smaug break into the water, but no heads had turned to that direction and she realized her brother was truly as clueless as everyone else.

"Who fell into the lake?" Gaellyn asked bemused before frowning. "Caladrieng?"

"Yes, I have to help him." She started to run again, Gaellyn now following with a grip on her arm, trying to prevent her from going further. "Let go Gaellyn, I have to get to him. I have to get to Smaug."

Gasps erupted around them while people turned to look at her with fear and loathing, and she felt Gaellyn retract his hold as he halted them both in place. "What did you say Lirarwen?"

She felt trapped, wanting to move towards the lake, but at the same time afraid to go further if they should attack. "I . . . "

Her sentence went unfinished as something strange started to happen. The air thinned and grew stagnant, while bubbles started to reach the surface of the water. The top of the lake began to steam as a pot would over a hot campfire, and the docks began to creak while fishermen where leaping back on to the boards from their small rowboats. The planks at the pier started to groan and split, and everywhere the rusted nails were shooting up from place. A scintillating glow bloomed in the water, orange and red like a geranium, and its hot smolder rose higher and higher until it touched the rippling surface. It was silent one moment, and than the next chaotic as a choir of shrieks broke out when the explosion finally happened. The wharf was obliterated in the blink of an eye, and many people were thrown back by the sudden blast, including Lily who had been standing with her brother before the disastrous event. Salty lake water rained down upon her as she was thrown on to her back beside Gaellyn, the boards unforgiving as they broke her fall. Her chest cavity was under an immense pressure, and for a moment she thought she might black out without being able to summon a deep breath. Gaellyn sat her up quickly, rubbing soothing circles on her back, uttering useless words of comfort while she fought to breathe.

She was oblivious to the mayhem around her, only reminded of the situation when the sun was promptly blackened in the sky, and a terrible gale force wind filtered between the buildings. All eyes turned up to witness the quiet shadow, and the result was met with cries of terror. His long neck stretched high into the air, taller than any building or structure in town, and his massive mountain of a head was angled down to gaze upon their frailty. The span of his thick wings reached wide as he clung to rooftops with either of his keen claws, water seeming to endlessly drip from his glistening scales and on to them like a pouring storm. His impressive red colour was like a fountain of blood, salted with flecks of gold throughout, and every spine and horn that started from his head and down the trail of his spine was charred black. Perhaps the most daunting thing of all was his formidable smile that he wore like a crown. Every tooth was pearl white, accompanied by a sharpened end that put the blades of elves to shame. Lily's frightened eyes met his amber stare, and he released a rumble deep from his throat that was more threatening than the chant of a wicked sorcerer. Smaug the magnificent had returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being away, had a bad case of the sniffles!


	19. Just Stay With Me

Tranquil. That's what Smaug felt as his body hit the frigid lake water. He sunk at a languid rate, limbs spread wide in surrender while the salty wetness soaked through his garments until the material billowed out around his body like a sheet drying in the wind. His eyes closed, and the pounding in his head dulled to a numb ache as he grew blissfully unaware of all things around him. Subconsciously he thought he had heard Lily just before the fall, but the water was loud and penetrating, engulfing him in a cocoon of silence that swept him away until he forgot everything else.

The water should have been cold to the touch, the season still early and clinging to the crispness of ice that winter left behind as it shed into spring. As the water surrounded him, Smaug knew his fire had never left him, the smoldering ache still deep within his dragon heart. Everything in his body began to burn, and like a trail of magic it ran down from his head, reaching all the way to his toes. He could no longer breathe with the water filling his lungs, and the damp creeping up through his nose until all he could taste was the brackish lake water.

He let out a scream that was muffled by the Long Lake, bubbles blowing out from his parted lips as he yelled in agony. His skin felt like it was being pulled impossibly tight over his bones, the tissues and muscles tearing beneath his flesh all the while his joints were popping out of alignment. He arched his spine forward, each vertebrae jutting out from his back like sharp quills on a porcupine as he tried to focus through the pain. Each bone felt like they were breaking under their own strength, cracking and shattering like frosted glass windows. His bond with Lily was completely sealed off, and as he reached lower into the depths of the lake, she would not know of his suffering.

He was nearly to the point of unconsciousness before being saved by a wondrously warm and soft feeling. His limbs extended out from his body, and his torso grew in size while his neck elongated. Folds of a thick and leathery skin unveiled from his arms, and the rest of his body was scaled over with his dazzling armor. His gums throbbed as his dull human molars were replaced with rows of sharp fangs in his mouth, and his fingers grew into claws that tore through the thinness of the water, thrashing and flipping about in a mad frenzy. The warmth stayed with him, calming him from his brief moment of losing control until his eyes opened, and he could see into the dark of the water

The small abyss of the lake could not contain his size, and his gargantuan head was the first to be unleashed through the surface. Water was steaming from the heat that his body provided, and his third glossy lids served as shields from the salty moisture getting into his eyes. Rivulets of water trailed down from his head to his broad shoulders, coating his tough hide in a slick and slippery sheath that was susceptible to the rays of the sun. He managed to propel himself from the lake with a powerful thrust of his wings, his claws grappling at the rooftops of buildings while he hoisted himself onto the boardwalk. The structures groaned and creaked in protest from his weight, for he could feel the strain he put on the weak wood as it cracked and splintered in the struggle to survive his massive size. The length of his long tail still dipped into the water, and he gave it a hard thwack that caused a small tidal wave to emerge from the lake, spraying the people who had fallen in his wake on the aged boards of the town. His gaze watched the tiny faces below him, peering at him in fright, and he could taste their fear on the end of his forked tongue, a sense so familiar that the predator in him craved.

It only took the shriek of one woman to spur the whole town into chaos. People were running around in blind panic, trying to escape his vicinity as fast as their stout legs could carry them. He let out a low and cruel laugh, the ramification of its might enough to strip the siding from the ramshackle lodges as he gazed down upon them with brutal fire. The brightness of his irises scorched the boardwalk as his sight absorbed between the rows, seeking out the pearly crown of his Lily's hair. She would be easy to spy amongst the droves of running humans. They were so ordinary, many with the hair colouring's of muddy browns and flat yellows, accompanied with baked skin from working under the sun on top of the lake. Lily was pale and fresh like the first blooming of a spring daisy, and he could smell her treasured sunlight against the foul stench of fish.

He opened up his bond to her, immediately flooded with her relief and anxiety. Her concern was for him. She feared the humans would turn to fight and strike him down, but he knew of no such weapon now that would be enough to pierce his scales. The Wind Lance was without arrows, all the more useless in their ploy to fight him off. He rose up into the air just as he felt Lily respond through the bond, a gentle pressure on his heart that had him finding her within seconds of lifting up above the rooftops of Lake Town.

A subdued purr slipped past his thick lips as he watched while she stood shakily on to her feet. Her knees wobbled, knocking against each other while she forced in three deep breaths. He was drawn in by the wideness of her brown orbs, fascinated by the awe he found there as she looked to him as if seeing him for the first time. She held her hand forward as tribute, reaching to feel him once again beneath her fingertips. Smaug was aware of the people who had stopped running to watch the girl they had constantly slandered, and branded as a misfit to their society. The sparse individuals that had been running had now coalesced into small groups as they watched Lily slowly advance towards him with small steps. Her actions were what they presumed was her taming the treacherous beast, but Smaug felt in his heart that it was his influence summoning her.

"Come to me my Lily of the Valley." Smaug chanted with wicked glee as he coaxed her towards him.

Just as she was but a hairs distance away from touching his snout with her soft palm, a frantic voice broke through the air, one he had long since tired of. "No Lirarwen, don't listen to him. He's put you under his dragons' spell," Gaellyn called with urgency. He ran forward with a surge of energy to grab her large white sleeve, tugging her back even when she began to protest as he dragged her away from the huge fire breather. "I will keep you safe Lira."

"No, let me go, he needs me," Lily struggled against her brother, and Smaug rose up over Esgaroth like the edge of a furious storm emerging. His black mass covered half of the town in shadow, and the only light to be seen came from his incandescent eyes squinting down in malice. He was fed up with the pretend wit and charm of her gallant brother, finding his childish attempts to be her brave hero dismal at best. Lily needed no hero, for she was no damsel. She was a Warrior Queen of the sky, loved by dragons. She who was born of the flame was far beyond this boy, and Smaug could confess that every part of him ached for the kill of this human. "Smaug!" His Phoenix called to him in desperation.

He plowed after her through the top of the town, claws digging greedily between the wooden homes, swiping out anything in his path as he chased after his distressed treasure. The destruction of the town was all around him, following him as he tore through brick and mortar, log and twine, anything at all that barred his way. If the boy had any sense at all, he would stop dragging Lily though his home, for it only served to further lure the dragon into the settlement. Homes were damaged, and the very peace of mind they had all conjured about him remaining in blissful slumber in the mountain was now broken, for Smaug's thirst for Lily would never dwindle, and he would have her back. With a beat of his wings, he gushed forward, swooping with his neck low before he was able to nudge the running pair with the end of his nose, causing them to stumble on the boardwalk, and bring Gaellyn's thievery to a swift end.

Smaug immediately lowered his head down by Lily, at least enough for her to make a reach for his hard scales and climb to safety from those mongrel lake people. Through her dazed vision, Lily scrabbled off her back and on to her feet, clawing her way up and over to Smaug without any perceivable injury. With tentative movements, she used her strength to pull herself up and over Smaug's neck until she rested comfortably with a tight grasp on one of his long spikes. Her breath was like a summer wind, blowing against his hard exterior as she leaned close, stretching out with her body until she could whisper to him so sweet and gentle a request. "Please don't hurt him."

"Hold tight, and be still Lily." Smaug said smoothly, promising her nothing of the sort, nor reassuring her of the safety of her adoptive kin. He reared his head back, Lily sliding down the length of his neck until she was seated at the base between his expanded wings, ready for a flight.

The broad stretch of town had vacated, all save for Gaellyn, who was wrestling with his own weight to stand. The miserable human was red in the face, both from the pain of the fall, and of unshed tears for the girl now astride his back.

"You foul and ugly worm. I won't let you take her," He spat defiantly, hair skewed and strewn across his forehead in thick black lines. The stumbled steps he took forward held all of the grace of a newborn colt, all awkward and gangling with no hope of appearing intimidating. Smaug burst with a chuckle at his efforts, plumes of smoke slipping from his nostrils as he observed the boy. "Lira please listen to me, he has you under some enchantment."

How dare the sniveling creature still try to address her while in his presence!? With a batty claw, Smaug struck at Gaellyn knocking him down with power on to the planks that forced the air from his lungs, causing him to choke and sputter. "Disgusting little goblin. Your insolence has come to an end."

Gaellyn howled in pain as the bottom flesh of his leg was torn into by an obsidian claw. Smaug's nails were as long as a grown man was tall, making it an easy task to cut through to the bone in Gaellyn's leg. He could feel the white obstruction at the tip of his claw, and he need only to extend the pressure he was applying for the bone to completely shatter in two beneath his grasp. Smaug much preferred to tease his prey, easing his hold so his victim could crawl forward, only to erase that relief when he would clamp down once again with more vigor in his clutch.

"Crawl, flee, whimper," He taunted viciously as he stared down at the boy, evil brewing in his heart as his claws grated across the planks. "You have to fight if you wish to survive. Show me what will you have boy."

Gaellyn's cries mixed with the soft ones coming from Lily as she shifted around on his back. Smaug kept his torso elevated high from the ground to eliminate the chance of her jumping from his shoulders should her bleeding heart interfere with his revenge. Her gentle nature was something he was fascinated by, but he was not so besotted as to allow it to stand in his way either. Gaellyn continued to beg and cry for help, surrendering to agony as he pleaded to be released with a pathetic amount of tears streaming down his face. Smaug could summon not an ounce of sympathy, for his loathing of the human had risen to an appalling height.

"Gaellyn!" Yricyn's surprised voice suddenly shrieked from up ahead on the boardwalk. Bard stood with him, quickly pulling the boy back before he could run ahead in the vain attempt to help his brother. From where they were standing, they would be unable to make out Lily's small form straddling his back, but their gaze was immediately pulled to his injured prey bleeding out on the boards below. "Please stop. Leave him alone." Yricyn began to cry, large tears forming in the corners of his eyes before running down his cheeks like the starting of an avalanche.

Smaug snarled, suppressing a roar at the child, not for his sake, but for Lily's. Her youngest brother was innocent enough to be forgotten so long as he didn't end up in the way. Bard pushed the boy behind his body, guiding him by the shoulder before he took a brave step forward with his hands held half way in the air in an appeasing motion. "You there, dragon, let him go. Surely there is more food around for you than this one small man."

Ever the mediator Bard was, and Smaug would have fancied him to have a good future in the politics of the town if it weren't for his earnest heart and his honesty. His heartbeat was not completely erratic, and he kept a rather calm demeanor which was respectable while in his presence, but Smaug would hear none of his negotiating. "Don't pretend you don't know me human. There are few now who do not know the legend of my face."

"I would not dare to seek to deceive you, Smaug the pernicious," Bard offered carefully while Yricyn whined behind him, anxiously jumping on his feet as he watched his brother writhing from torture. "I only ask that you release him. Compared to your greatness, he should be insignificant to you."

"No Bard, don't come any closer, he's not what you think. He's also a man, he's—" Gaellyn's babbling was cut off as Smaug pressed him deeper into the boards until they started to snap and creak beneath him.

"Bold human, are you not afraid?"

"I'm terrified," Bard answered without missing a beat. "But you have my friend trapped there beneath your spear claws, and I would be remiss if I did not stop to appeal to your better nature."

"Better nature?!" Smaug guffawed in black delight. "I have none."

Bard's worried eyes met with Gaellyn's, the air around him positively filled with dread until it came close to bursting. Smaug could taste the copper in the breeze from the spilt blood, warm and wet under his thick palm. Gaellyn's weakened pulse sang softly to him, as a song that had already reached its crescendo, and he wanted to hear the finale in that moment before he would take his share of flesh, and satiate himself with the blood from his feasting as it slid down his gullet. He slowly removed his claw from Gaellyn's torn up body, his prey too frail and void of strength to move any kind of distance away to avoid his impending fate. Smaug cared little if Bard and the child were there to witness his devouring, or if they should avert their gazes at the last possible moment.

Caught between the decision of biting his meal in half at the waist or swallowing him whole, Smaug was taken aback when something suddenly collided with the right side of his face. He snorted and puffed in anger, shaking his head back and forth in delirium before angling his neck up to find the daring creature who had unleashed the fruitless attack. It had been a dusty and tattered book that had clipped the end of his snout, and thrown by a feeble old man who was but an inch away from knocking on deaths door. Smaug sneered, his teeth gnashing and clinking together in his mouth as he ground back and forth. He gave a little push and his body was up in the air, poised and deadly as a serpent. "Old fool. Do you think your importance is any more than his?" Smaug said in regards to the fatally injured Gaellyn.

The elderly man ran from the window, vanishing into the interior of the house where Smaug could still hear him through the walls. He could run and flee if it encouraged his ambitions to live longer, but the dragon would still find him. At least he thought he would until becoming distracted by another offensive object being thrown in his face. The townsfolk were popping up all over, like gophers in the springtime, and the mild diversion created enough of a space of time for Bard to run out and drag Gaellyn's body back to the shelter of the people.

Smaug roared like a thunderbolt and he shot up higher into the air before covering all of the ground below him in darkness with the stretch of his wings. "MONGRELS!"

"Leave dragon," One woman called out with a shaking fist. "And take that witch with you!"

"No, she's innocent," Declared another. "She's under his enchantment; I saw it with my own eyes."

"It's all lies. How do we know it isn't her who controls the beast?" The first woman piped up again.

Their quarreling was induced by fear, as fights broke out among them. Smaug simply had to let out a fierce bark and all of their attention was drawn back to him. He felt compelled to put the humans in their place, especially after that last comment about Lily being his master, as if he was some mindless animal helpless without the commands of his owner, and in need of a good whipping. He cared for her unlike any other, but none should be quick to make the mistake that he was lorded by those emotions.

"Filthy tub traders and fishmongers, you will lament the day you forsook this girl, and when you spat in the face of my undeniable might," His chest burned brightly with the eagerness of his fire to be unleashed, and the realization of that hit the crowd below as gasps erupted in tremors across the planks. "I will lay waste to your town until it is not but ash, and the name Esgaroth will be nothing but a mere memory. I will let you fade into the rising sun, like dust in the wind, for questioning the magnificence of Smaug. You all shall burn."

His wings thumped against the air, blowing gust after gust of strong wind through Esgaroth while its people adamantly fled in all directions of the town. They sought refuge in buildings, and behind wood paneled structures, delusional in their fear that it would save them from his dragons' breath. The slow and hobbled started to lag behind, a noticeable sight to his superb vision as he terrorized from above.

"Go Yricyn, run." Bard commanded while he dragged Gaellyn up by the shoulder, pulling him along as he held him with his weight. Blood now covered them both in copious amounts, Bard's usual brown coat now a rusty auburn up along the length of his left sleeve. Gaellyn was sputtering incoherently under his breath, his head lulling back and forth limply as he fought to stay conscious.

"I won't leave you or my brother." Yricyn argued petulantly, his childishness rearing its head at the wrong time when he should have been obeying.

"Yricyn, go now!" Bard shouted, his constant reserved coolness utterly spent as he pointed for the boy to leave him behind.

Between a mixture of a deep breath and a shrug, Yricyn took off ahead in the other direction, stumbling once or twice on a loose board before he got long out of sight. Smaug knew his blaze could have reached the boy long before he was given the order to leave by Bard. Perhaps it was a small part of mercy in himself that had allowed for the child to run away. His adoration for his Phoenix held him back by a thin rope, but not enough for him to do away with revenge.

He swallowed one last thick breath in his dry throat, holding the air in tightly before releasing a long and terrible jet of fire. The close structures made of wood went up in flames, like wicks of candles, licking up the sides until black smoke rose high into the air above. Bard had managed to dive into the water just before the flames could reach him, but the fires had spread on to Gaellyn's back before he had hit the lake, permanently marring the flesh, even as he followed into the water just after Bard did. Other citizens had not been as fortunate as the heat reached them, burning all the way through to their bones, leaving behind nothing but piles of grey ash when they had been too late to flee. Everything was black and grey in the wake of fire, the ash and soot raining down like snow upon the decaying buildings, and much of the wharf was unrecognizable where boats and markets had once been.

The stench of death reached Smaug's nose as he looked at the destruction he had caused from just one breath of fire. Pieces of charred wood were smoldering with toxic fumes from his molten breath, corroding the air and the nature that surrounded the trade post. People were wailing and shrieking in anguish from the better part of the town that had not been touched by fire. He felt no remorse nor did he shed a tear. They were a miserable breed of men, and his black heart had bled from the knowledge of what they had done to his Lily in the past. In his tirade he had not taken into consideration how she would feel, but he knew now that she was sharing in the sorrow with the same people who had condemned her to a life of loneliness. In that moment he could not understand her benevolence, and he felt anger for her despair. There was no room for her clemency, and he had to make her see reason.

_"You must stop now Smaug,"_ Her voice broke through strongly in the bond, momentarily freezing him of action as he listened to her tender pleading.  _"Please, lead us away from here, and let there be no more ruin."_

Smaug did not want to leave until Esgaroth was leveled to the lake where it would remain in a watery grave, but he felt his body begin to shift in the direction of his mountain without his consent. The beat of his wings were taken without passion, and the thoughts in his mind were still adamant on finishing what he had started. The further away they flew from Lake Town, the more his anger started to shift towards Lily, and her insolence for taking control of his body. The rage in his head made him vulnerable to her commands. He felt her grasp on his back, and her delicate tears as they fell and seeped in through his scales. He realized those magical water droplets were the reason for the soothing calm in his heart, for she otherwise would not have had the power to have influence over his behavior.

They passed over the ruins of Dale at the footsteps of his lair, and he was reminded of its fall from his hands that felt like it had taken place just short days ago, even when decades had passed. Much of the same would have occurred at Lake Town if not for Lily's intervention, but he had a difficult time faulting her for it because he knew, perhaps better than anyone, of her selflessness. His fury had been mollified deep within himself, but it had not completely vanished, and he struggled with it as they passed through the aperture of his mountain. Lily stirred on his back, and he landed to the ground roughly so she could slide down the length of his back, and be returned to solid ground. She let out a breath as her boots touched the stone floor, limbs shaky from the flight of being up so high. The silence that had birthed during the flight was lingering, and she kept her eyes downcast. He knew why, for he could smell the fear as much as he could recognize the signs on her tiny body.

"You will stay here Lily." He said gruffly.

Her eyes finally met his as she looked up with a gasp, astonishment present in her gaze. "But why? I'm supposed to be with you, I don't want to be alone."

The truth of her words was evident, but he did not want her close right now. He was ashamed, not because he regretted what he had done in Lake Town, but for the entire opposite reason, and he was not ready to expose her to anymore of his ruthless and cold-blooded nature. As a Phoenix, she was an absolute good, and close contact with her at the present would only further corrupt the pureness that manifested within her frail being. "You will do as you're told!"

The bite in his last words had her take a step back in fright, and her eyes sought elsewhere to gaze, anything to keep from looking at him. Smaug gave her the gift of his absence as he started to silently slink away, back to the treasure hall where his gold awaited. It had been long since he had rested deep within the comforts of his treasures, and his body still ached from the transformation. He paid no mind to the pull through the bond, the small piece of him that was shouting at him to return to Lily, and not leave her alone with her emotions. A confrontation with her would force him to face what he had done to her though, and he was not ready, not yet. So he returned to the one inviting thing left in the world for him, and he dove into the gold upon sight, sinking into the temperamental depths before settling with the cold pieces around his hot scales. The coins bent around his body to welcome him into slumber, and he locked down his mind, playing dead to the world until he would rise once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Couldn't get to a computer nearly as much as I would have liked, but I saw the film again, so that helped big time!


	20. Safe and Ignorant

Lily continued to pace back and forth while scowling sharply. She was contemplating what had just happened with Smaug, everything from Lake Town, and all the way back to the Lonely Mountain, up until he had left her at the highest hall of Erebor. Her boots made dull clunking sounds as she thudded across the stone floor in furious thought. She was filled with rage, and she knew it was her own because Smaug had effectively blocked her through the bond once again. When she had tried to pry for his emotions, she had felt a great surge delivering her back to her own mind. It was obvious he wanted distance from her because he was persistent to keep her out, and for Lily, that would not do.

She looked at the empty corridor, halting her pacing for a moment as she considered the vastness of the mountain. It would take her a good deal of the day to make her way back down to the treasure hall, and quite honestly she didn't know how those dwarves could stand the far distance in their own Kingdom. Still, the walk would clear her head, and it would do her more good than remaining stationary. With her mind made up—and with little convincing—she started down the inside halls of the mountain, seeking out her dragon, regardless if he wished to avoid her. She was tired of all the running, and the little spurt of assertiveness was all she needed to keep moving.

Lily wasn't aggressive by nature, and it took much to light the anger within her. What she was feeling now was not just rage in its purest form, but she was experiencing many emotions simultaneously. She couldn't shake the anguish of Lake Town, nor could she unseen the horrors and destruction. It was there every time her eyes shut; painted on the back of her eyelids like a vision she couldn't escape. Had their suffering been brought on by her? Smaug had attacked Gaellyn because of her, had purposely singled him out because of his endeavor towards romantic feelings and emotional attachment. Her brothers' innocent blood had been spilt all over the dock, and she wasn't even aware of how badly he had been burned by Smaug's fire, because they had flown away from the chaos. Making nice with a dragon put her at odds with everyone else in all of Middle-Earth, and Smaug's possessiveness of her made her a detrimental hazard to anyone she came into contact with. Perhaps her adoptive mother was right to want her away from the family, if only death would she bring.

"But I'm not a witch." She mumbled to herself surely. A nameless face in the crowd had called her as such, and it wasn't the first time Lily had been susceptible to such foul names. At the time it had had her showing a grimace, but with some distance put between her and the town, she was able to swallow her wounded pride and continue forward like always.

She focused on her breathing, her legs feeling twice their own weight after the stiff flight on her dragon. Her childish fantasy of riding astride his back hadn't unfolded into the fashion she had envisioned because of his attack on Lake Town. She had wanted it to be a beautiful sight where she could stretch her arms out wide in surrender, with nothing but the wind and sunlight to touch them. It should have displayed the cherishment of their bond, and the beauty of their companionship, however nothing but despair had she felt in them both. But what was she supposed to say to him after watching him torture and maim her brother, as well as the innocent townsfolk?

Her mind had frozen, and he might have accused her of not caring if she hadn't made the quick decision to reach through the bond and stop him. Lily was no fool, she knew the magic in her tears had been the only reason she had gained any sway over Smaug's mind. She dreaded to think he was upset with her over such a thing, but already there was no denying in her mind that he was furious. He had lost control over his own actions because she had deliberately violated his sense of self-command, impeding the sanctity of their connection. The rage he had left in was evident, and he had gone back to brood in the embrace of his gold. Typical dragon behavior, and expected, though a part of her still was afraid of facing that anger he had gone to rest with.

"Better than being alone." She said to reassure herself. The constant drip of water, and the echo of her footsteps was the only thing she could hear in the mountain. Smaug was a soft sleeper; barely a peep to be heard under his gold, yet the smallest ruckus could rouse him from his dreams. Do dragons even dream? And what of if they did, Lily could only wonder.

In an unforeseen occurrence, her ankle shifted on its side and she took a small tumble as she came across a sharp corner to a flight of stairs she hadn't been expecting. She was close now to the treasure hall, and she forced her legs to stand once more, grabbing at the walls for purchase as her muscles screamed in new agony from her graceless fall. Exhaustion and hunger were playing up again in full swing, but she had only a short way to her destination, and she would not give in now.

"Bloody dragon, how dare he." She said in outrage, cursing Smaug for her ill fortune. Tears might have sprung up to her eyes if she wasn't already bubbling with anger.

A sweat broke out across her brow and in the valley between her breasts, causing her tunic to cling to her torso as she approached the center of the mountain. Smaug delivered a bundle of heat in repose, and she could feel his strong breath as he exhaled. She stood above on a landing before the drop into the heavy hoard of gold. Smaug had burrowed deep within his treasures, but she knew precisely where he laid because the coins took shape over the grooves and sharp ridges of his back. She leapt down into a particularly hefty pile of coins, it breaking her fall with a loud  _crash_  before she was sliding down further into the heart of Smaug's pride. He kept from stirring, but surely he already knew she was there.

Showing no sign of stopping, she stood in her threadbare boots and marched forward in pursuit of answers. She slipped once or twice, first on coins, and then on a large serving dish that gave away beneath her heel like a patch of ice. A sigh of defeat escaped past her lips as her hair tumbled forward over her shoulders. She felt a damp heat blow over her, sifting through her hair and clothes, and she peered upwards to see Smaug's large eye watching her, with a nostril exposed between the gold where he had blown breath.

"You can't make me go away." Her voice was oddly cold, rather unlike her to the point that even he held vague surprise behind his tired gaze.

Gold started to flow from his head and down his shoulders as he maneuvered his massive body into an upright position until he was seated back on his haunches, tail flicking behind him in irritation. Lily held tight to remain in place as a wave of coins and gems came rushing down upon her. She let out a yelp when she was lifted into the air, her feet dangling freely just as the river of treasures cruised by where she had once stood. Smaug had her in a grip by the back of her tunic with his teeth before setting her back down before him. The action was like that of a feline with her kittens, though she didn't associate Smaug with being nurturing at that particular moment.

"You disobeyed me Lily," He spoke lowly with curls of smoke traveling upwards from his snout. "I told you not to come down here."

"I don't care," She argued hotly. Her feet kicked out coppers and silvers under her heels as she walked closer to him with thumping steps. He looked down on her with jaded eyes, the curve of his neck angling down with his head tilted sideways. She probably was a pathetic sight to him, tripping her way through gold and silver alike. If she was being honest with herself, she did feel pathetic, just a little bit. "You can't tell me to go away, not after what you just did, and not after what we've been through together."

"I will not waste my words on that. I regret nothing." He stood up to his full height, his weight sinking into the hoard beneath as he strode around her. She was barely able to withstand the wind he created as he brushed over her, hovering through the air before landing a distance away across the room.

Determined, Lily set off after him, the coins splashing around her as she swam her body across the room through the golden sea. Smaug was incredulous to see her being so adamant, his thick lips and the ridges around his eyes pulled in surprise as she neared. No treasure in his hoard had ever demanded his attention before, and she prided herself on being the difference, that one living thing he deemed worthy to keep, if perhaps not his equal. Lily did not want to be his equal; she wanted to be his.

"Please stop," She beseeched, her words weak as she panted from loss of breath. "Let me have my say."

"I do not wish to listen." He replied snarkily, almost with a smirk as if he was curious of her actions, and wished to see more of her stubborn nature that reared its head when he gave her the right incentive. He once again was soaring low into the air before his legs touched back down in the center of the hall.

Lily let out a soft whimper, hard pressed to follow after him, even as her body was arguing against all strenuous movement. She skipped and leapt over hills of his jewels, forever aware that he was intriguingly watching her lethargic form race after him. She approached at the rear, her sights set on his tail that had uncoiled into a long thick rope of scales with a spade end, like a shovel. It was lying useless atop his plunder, and she grasped on to its sharp hook, pulling herself up to make the climb up the uneven ridges of his back.

Smaug peeked over his shoulder at her, bemusement in his stare as he watched her keep her balance up along the expanse of his muscular body. She took one step at a time to avoid the drop from his shoulders, the trek more daunting than all the stairs of Erebor. It would have only taken one shift by Smaug to make her fall back into the dazzling abyss of gold below, but he kept absolutely still, as if he wanted her to reach her destination. She utilized what reserved strength she had stored to grab ahold of the groves between his scales, pulling herself up the back of his head as she dug in with her grip to make that last stride.

Her heart thundered and her breathing was haggard when she finally reached the top of his forehead, stretching out on her back while her chest thumped with a fury she would not have suspected to exist in her. As she swallowed for air, she spoke to Smaug between her gasps, aware he must be going cross-eyed while trying to catch a glimpse of her as she lounged on his head like a crown. "Listen . . . to . . . me."

"And why should I grant you that request?" He asked, rearing his head back a fraction to cause her panic as she slid without control, grabbing with her fingers to break before she could fall away. "You dared to invade my mind, to use your talents against my consent so that you could command my will. Your decision speaks to me of two things, and that is either your audacity knows no bounds, or you truly are the most naïve creature the land has ever birthed."

"Is it naïve to show heart and courage in the face of those you care about? To stand opposed for the purpose of keeping them safe from harm?"

Smaug let out a bark full of wrath as his large body flopped down into the mounds of riches. Lily felt the world rush all around her as his neck unfurled into the coins, like a serpent through the sand. She managed to cling on through the journey, his head lastly joining the rest of his prone body before he tilted it to the side to shake her off. She glided down from his forehead to the curve of his snout, before landing with a  _plop_  in the treasures before his nose. Her head turned, and she came to face his anger as he revealed a snarl.

"Do not pretend you did me any favours with your poor accounted choices. I will not stand to have my mind lorded over with pure tears, and my body to be bridled by your bleeding heart. You will never use our bond as a way through to controlling me again Lily."

His silent warning behind his words left no room for argument, and she would accept to that harsh entreaty without question. He rose up with his weight, standing over her with a considering look before he sat back on his hind legs. For a moment she thought it possible that he might walk away again, and Lily pushed herself up from her back, landing on her knees before his feet with no strength to hold herself up anymore. "Please, don't leave me alone again." Her voice was a lost wind between the columns now that her anger was extinguished, but she knew he had heard her.

"You are the lamb that chases the wolf," Smaug found her to be curious she realized, ensnaring him with her tenacity. "Are you so needing of my attention?"

"It is not your attention, but your company I desire."

Smaug let out a derisive snort, his lips peeling back around his teeth as he sucked in his cheeks. "After I executed an attack on those you care about, you still wish to be a prisoner to my clutches. You are an endearing fool Liliana."

"I am no prisoner if I choose to be here with you, even if you think I am a fool," Lily stood up on two frail legs, trembling because she could not read the emotions in his eyes. "Is it foolish to want friendship with a dragon? You seem to forget I am not human either, that there is nothing for me out there, and I do not wish to depart to a life of loneliness and isolation. I crave conversation, the stimulation of being alive when I'm with you, and the feel of the breeze blowing through me. I want your intrusion, your affection . . . your love."

Much of the power in her voice waned as she said the last part, growing sheepish until she avoided his gaze entirely. She sat down under the shadow of his form, the expensive metals crunching beneath her as she stretched her legs out before her. Her words were true, but now that they had come to pass from her heart, she did not wish to face him. She had been on this path with Smaug since the truth of her origins, and their bond had only increased since the night they had shared in Bard's home. It was an event she thought about it constantly, the emotions she had felt as well as her body's passionate responses. Smaug was everything to her; her partner, her dragon, and she knew not if he felt the same way.

Her shoulders tensed, and she pinched her eyes shut as she felt his movements. His large body sprawled out on its side, surrounding her in his ancient warmth with the heat of a dry desert. It seemed the air had stilled once he was settled in place, not a noise to be heard in the endless quiet of the mountain. With her eyes still shut in darkness, she convinced herself he had succumbed to sleep until she felt something warm and wet travel up the side of her face. She let out a gasp of surprise, her eyes flashing as her head snapped to look at him in astonishment. He wore a sorrowful pout on his square jaw that conveyed his internal battle, though he was still very much gruff in disposition. "Why did you do that?" She asked quietly.

His forked tongue escaped from his mouth, drawing a trail up her side to her cheek again. It was sticking to her skin, and the excess saliva soaked through her sleeve to her naked arm underneath. "Your face was marred in anger and sadness. I did not like it."

"Forgive me," She bowed her head slightly while unfolding her legs to edge closed to his face until she was leaning up against his taut cheek. "I do not ask for your apology for what happened, but please don't send me away anymore."

"I possess your heart Lily. I do not think there is anywhere in the land I could send you where I would not follow," He purred lowly as she nuzzled into his tough hide. "But there is something I must ask you. Why did you not come to the aide of your brother? I know of your . . . attachment to him, and you must have known I would have brought his death without hesitation."

She sighed while blowing a short breath on to his scaled face that brought a shudder to rock his frame. Her fingers dug into the grooves between each scale, gently clawing and caressing as she thought of her answer. "I was afraid." Was her cryptic response.

"Afraid of me?" He inquired, reluctance in his voice to hear her answer.

She shook her head as she rested beside him, little wisps of her pale hair tickling against his hard exterior while she used him as a pillow. "Not of you, I was afraid for you, and for everyone else. If I had come to Gaellyn's aide, you would have only seen my actions as a gesture of love for him. I would not risk the lives of innocents to your irrational rage."

A growl offset the tranquil tone that they had worked on establishing as Smaug shuffled around, jostling Lily out of place where she collapsed on to her side. "Irrational rage?" He accused venomously. "Careful how you speak, little Phoenix. My mercy has been stretched to its limit, and it would not hinder me to shower you in fire."

"I like my clothing as they are thank you," She sassed hotly in the knowledge that his breath could do little else to damage her. "Covering me from exposure."

"Then we disagree on a great many things." Smaug remarked, a rich and sugary lust as sweet as fresh honey in his fanged grin while he continued to lasciviously admire her sprawled out body.

Lily brought her limbs up to her chest as she sat up, hugging them tightly into herself as if she was a boulder. A blush spread over her flesh until a glorious pink mapped across the entirety of her body from head to toe. She murmured to Smaug in a small voice, scolding him lightly for toying with her. "Don't tease me."

Smaug chuckled deeply in return, nudging her saliva-logged arm sleeve with the end of his snout, causing her to tip and roll over on to her back. "That brilliant flush it brings to your delectable creamy skin is a worthwhile award."

Lily managed to scowl through her blush. "You've distracted me from what I was beginning to explain before," She countered. "I froze when it came to making the decision to stop you from inflicting pain on Gaellyn. I thought maybe that if I did reach out to stop you, you would have left me there in Lake Town with the others. Of course I couldn't allow you to harm anyone else either, despite my less than perfect past growing up there; I still have a fondness for my old home. I don't know why I decided to go through our bond, but I knew it would succeed in stopping you. I made the decision that would save everyone, but I fear now it has ruined everything between us."

"Nothing is ruined Lily," He rubbed his nose into the center of her chest, inhaling her scent and sharing his heat with her until he brought about a small smile on her lips. "I am distrusting by nature, but I still want you here with me. There is much we have yet to learn of one another, and you are young and lack focus."

"Is that why you can handle your transfiguration's better than I?" She asked while curious as to why he still remained as a dragon.

"I do have my theories now that I have experienced my change, and I shall have to educate you with the proper skills so that you might obtain serenity in either form."

"Right now?" She was eager and hopeful to learn, but immediately after that was her exhaustion, and she tried to stifle a yawn to no avail.

"You need rest before further journeying into that."

"And what about the dwarf arrow. You know something, don't you?" She asked, wrapping her arms around the end of his snout in an embrace, coaxing him to lie down with her so she could be enveloped in his warmth.

Smaug thrummed in his throat with impatience. "Your curious nature Lily, it is inspiring but wearying. Heed me now, and rest, for later we may begin our start into your new future here."

She scowled from the coddling she was receiving. Her sleepiness be damned, she was eager to begin everything that instant, a thirst to prove her merit to him. "Stop your thinking Liliana."

Her mouth feel opened uncontrollably into an unattractive gape. "I sometimes feel you skipped over the detail that you can read my mind."

"In your innocence, you are easy to read." He retorted.

The end of her nose twitched in indignation, and she was tempted to make a witty reply if it wasn't for the sudden intrusion of another in the Lonely Mountain. Her head jerked up at the sound of a sudden chirp echoing across the ceiling beams. Smaug's eyes traced the roof of the hall with narrowed slits in suspicion, as he too had heard the trilling disturbance. There was a glint of orange, and the small bundle landed down with a thud in Lily's lap. She almost mistook it for a fallen leaf if it wouldn't have jumped alive in her hand.

"Oh my," Lily exclaimed as her little pet leaped in short hops, tired from his long journey. She had nearly forgotten Erugon in the aftermath from all of the commotion, and she presumed he would have returned to his home in nature before seeking her out again. "I see you haven't forgotten me friend, and what is this you brought with you?"

He had hidden something shiny beneath his twig legs, and he hopped aside so she could pluck it into her other hand. A mirthful laugh was released from her, and she held the precious object up to the light with a gleam in her eye. "That poor merchant gave everything to Bard, and now he has nothing to show for it."

"A clever man would watch his plunder better," Smaug said as he sniffed close to her palm, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste the gold of the brooch as if to assure its quality. He gave a satisfied hum, the sound coming deep from his belly, while his eyes darted to the waxwing in an approving manner. "Quick little thief. I would have thought that jewel abandoned."

"Is that your way of granting permission for him to stay?" Lily asked before she giggled from nuzzling of feathers against the hollow of her neck where Erugon chose to make roost.

"He may come and leave as he wishes, so long as he does not dirty my gold, or lift any coin from its place."

She didn't pester him further with the request, pleased enough that he had acquiesced at all. Smaug shut his eyes to the world, the thick lids falling over the amber irises like curtains, and he spoke no more. Lily stuck to her spot in the tight nook under his chin, Erugon still nattering quietly into her as she readied for slumber. She wished she could stop her head from racing with thoughts, but the grief of Lake Town was still too near, and she was left with the feeling of being flogged by the newly discovered knowledge of her past. It may yet be possible to discover the reason behind her lost memories, or better still to gather them from the corners of her mind that they were locked inside. Her eagerness for her new life to start was enough to force herself to try and find some sleep, even if many words were stuck stale without use in her mouth. Although she had a sense of foreboding for what awaited her and Smaug, she remained content, and for the moment everything was cast in a state of blissful calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some anger, some fluff, and some hidden love revealed. We're getting to the good stuff now, so stay tuned for some very interesting and naughty things to come ;D


	21. Compromising

"Jump little Lily, I'll catch you." Smaug cooed, though the timbre of his voice was deep and shook through the beams of the high ceiling, losing the comforting quality that she was looking for.

It wasn't of distrust that made her upset; for she knew he would catch her. They had been at this all morning, and a week's worth before that, with Smaug setting to the task of trying to instruct her on her transformations. Her body, as well as her mind, had to be coerced to make the change, which incidentally required a strong degree of focus. Lily was trying her best, or so she felt, but her focus and her confidence slipped a little more each time she was unsuccessful. Going back to her first accidental transformation when she had left the mountain in search of her dragon, Smaug had attempted to create a similar scenario in which to inspire her. Placing her on the suspended chandelier on the ceiling was his way of molding the environment for the purpose he intended, but Lily was constantly aware of the daunting fall below to the bed of unforgiving treasures. It also served as a reminder to the time when he had purposefully placed her up there as his prisoner, a distraction that she couldn't divorce herself from in her thoughts.

"This is failing to work. May we please try something else?" She pleaded, ignoring Erugon as he flew insistently around her head, like a bee to a flower. Her little waxwing friend had been mocking her with his flight, chirping in small jests that had her scowling and batting her hand at him to shoo, but he never went far from her sight.

"Liliana," Smaug's stern voice reverberated to her in irritation and disappointment. She likely would have been hurt by that—her desire was aimed to please him—if she wasn't already annoyed with him herself. Being under his tutelage was like being in battle, and she had far more chinks in her armor than he had at the pressing moment as he unleased barrage after barrage of criticism. "Your lack of focus is appalling. Success does not come to those who submit to distraction."

She grumbled lowly under her breath, her previous apprehensions about leaping from her pedestal slowly ebbing away as she threw herself from the great height. The burn of Phoenix fire was beneath her skin, grating at her bones and shaving away the strength in her muscles. It was always the same feeling as she slowly plummeted down through the air, but her mind would reject the change at the last moment, succumbing to the weakness of men as she feared the end. Smaug once again intercepted her, diving forward with his neck stretched out until she landed on her side against the soft centre on his snout. A large breath of air blew out from her lungs on impact, like a small gust of wind filtering through a cave. Smaug's throat thrummed in annoyance as he slowly set her back down in a pile of coins, parking out on his haunches before her with a steely look.

"I find it difficult to believe you are putting any effort into this lesson now."

"I'm exhausted, and you've had me going at it since I woke at dawn, and all the seven days before," She defended haughtily with her arms crossed, and foot tapping impatiently. Maybe she had started to slacken off a bit somewhere around the middle, wherever that turning point had been, but she felt she was justified to do so because of his poor treatment. "Your skills as a tutor aren't anything to brag over you know. I hardly felt encouraged, and what is my motivation supposed to be?"

He slammed down his front claw, causing the ground to shake while jolting Lily from the tremor. Plumes of black smoke fumed from his nostrils, irate in his tirade, and Erugon chose that time to flee out of the treasure room.  _Such loyalty_. Even left alone, it was going to take more than a tantrum for her to back down, though she kept her lips in a thin, tight line until he was more rational, and by that, not puffing like a chimney. "You think I should be patient with you?"

"I don't see where you think differently, as I've been more than patient with you, and over a good deal of things. I don't have the mind of a dragon, and I'm not even of a phoenix. It has been long and lost to me, something I would have hoped you to acknowledge. This shouldn't be a battle between us, yet it grows to be more of one every day and I won't stand for it anymore."

The great dragon sat like a scolded mutt. He likely wouldn't clamour to her for forgiveness anytime soon, but with luck her stern manner might make him more susceptible of her struggling. "Your intolerance has been made aware. From my part, I will . . . attempt to be patient with you in the future."

"I know it isn't easy," Lily placated, her tone gentler now. "And I will try to be more heeding of your wisdom and instruction. I know I'm not always so obedient."

"I think, for now, that is enough. You can expect to pick up on your lesson later."

He maneuvered his body in a way that made him slither like a serpent. His red scales darkened blacker in the shadows of the mountain as he weaved between the towers of his gold. Flickering back and forth like an agitated worm, his tail cut through the air, spade tip lethal like a sword. Coins and gems were tossed around in a hurricane as it collided with the hills of treasure. Lily laughed, finding it of queer amusement. She followed after him, galloping on the flat bottoms of her feet until she was near enough to leap up on the back of his tail, using only the strength of her arms to pull herself in place. Smaug hardly missed a step, but he knew she was there because she felt the tip of his tail curl up behind her back, keeping her in place. It would be a shorter journey for her this way. It always was faster astride his back, though he was particular in which spot of coins he would deem worthy to be his bed that day, and they would both lose time as he would move from place to place. The thought process of that wasn't something she was quick to understand. It was a mattress of metal; could one spot differ from another so greatly?

"Do you mistake me for a steed?" Smaug began to circle in place, shifting the treasures into a whirlpool around his body before lumbering down with a resonating  _boom_  from his weight. "You must, because you ride me in such a way."

Lily leapt down in place from his unfurled tail, her short gown riding up to her thighs as it caught on his tough hide. She fisted the frayed fabric, righting it in place. His words had traveled through her almost fleetingly until she caught onto to the tail end of them in an inescapable hold. They turned against her, pulling at her own thoughts not so delicately as to remind her of Lake Town. It was in the spare room of Bard's home, at night in the whisper of shadows where he had felt her, tasted her. Had she been of bolder heart, perhaps she would have taken her due, a handful of him to show she could ride him as more than a steed. It was a simple jest, yet she was reminded of the reaches in the night that never took place, of the man within the beast that had not returned. Smaug was as careful not to speak of this as she had been not to think it, but that streak had come to a swift end. It had to be broken, sooner or later.

"I know you are no steed. You don't stink of horse, and I can't imagine you braying while grazing in a field." It was an absurd thing to say, but what else could she have done. Things were strange enough already without her bringing in matters of the heart. They acted as her tether, and she wouldn't let them do the same to Smaug, even if she ached for him. She always did. "Does it bother you when I do that, because I can stop?"

He grunted his reply, a spurt of his hot breath blasting out from his nose and straight through her as it ruffled her hair and garments. Her flesh prickled from the heat, soothing her enough to take a seat in front of him while she hugged her legs to her chest, childish fascination in her wide eyes. Large red lids flapped about as he blinked, judging her with curiosity. "You are in a talkative mood, which means there is something you wish to ask me."

He never allowed for her to beat around the bush, and maybe that was a good thing. Her nose crinkled as she thought about her question, brushing her hands up her arms as each fair hair stood from the warmth. Smaug could be insulted so easily, and while she hoped her question was mostly harmless, she never could tell how he would react. Best to say it quickly. "Can you change back?"

He lifted his head up from the ground, gold pieces clinging to the underside of his chin like stalactites. His head hovered, casting a shadow over her as she titled her chin up to gaze at him and trying not to shiver with fear. His upper lip pealed back, canines glinting while he snarled and sneered in a tone that brook no argument. "Why?"

"It's just . . . I thought if you showed me, that it might help with my problem."

"The fickle belief that sight is truth." Smaug snorted derisively, accusing her of something so inordinately dull rather than granting her request.

"I don't think I am that frivolous as to believe in that," She retorted thinly, her displeasure voiced from being slighted by his arrogant assumption. "Would you please do this for me, just once?"

Smaug stood up as fast as he could push his massive form to move, causing her to do the same in tangled steps, moving uncertain on her feet. In his elegance he always managed to make her look like a fool. "Step away Lily." He commanded softly.

She did as he requested without question. Coins skidded and slid beneath the soles of her feet as she walked backwards, never taking her eyes off the dragon once so as to be sure she would witness everything. She was reminded of stones in shallow water when oft she walked through his treasures, only it did not caress her skin in a dewy wetness like a river, and she was sweating through the material of her frock, both from dragon heat and her own proclivities to dwell on thoughts.

The watching of Smaug's transformation was like the setting of the sun; an end to warmth and the sight of one only known left in existence vanishing behind a line that could not be followed or traced. He folded his wings back into his body, the thin membranes coming together like drawn curtains. The treasure hall grew stagnant and dry, as if the last breath had been sucked in greedily by the dragon. A misty wisp of cloud surfaced around him, growing in size with the power to block his large mass from her sight. She watched helplessly, not knowing what would become of him while she felt his anguish through the bond. He was torn down to size, everything dragon about him ripped away until he was stripped of scale, talon and fang. His roars became screams just as he changed from beast to man. Her stomach roiled in sickness from the shattering, the sound of his bones crunching as he was broken down to size. She was no longer in the dark of his shadow now that the bulk of his body had collapsed into a small heap of pink flesh in the centre of precious hoards.

When the cloud of magic dissipated, she ran towards him in long leaps like a feline, falling down on to both knees before his shuddering body with her hands finding their purpose. The skin of his back was tinged in an inflamed red, with the dark ridges of his carbonized bones jutting up and mapping out a road along the trail of his spine. Not of man. Black bones, strong, the likes of which belonged to a dragon.

Lily draped herself over him, wrapping her arms under his while ensnaring their fingers together in a mess of digits. His breathing was deep, and she felt herself rise and fall with every intake of air he took, "I've got you, I won't leave you alone." She whispered into his neck, with the ends of his hair tickling the apple of her left cheek while she nuzzled into him. He was naked beneath her, something she did not give much thought to. Contact; skin on skin and her arms around him, that was her comfort as she concerned over his pain.

"Lily." He groaned, rising off of the floor carefully. Her weight went with him while she guided him with two hands securely around his waist. As he struggled to hold himself steady, he mumbled something too low for her to make out.

"What is it?" Her fingers carded back through his hair as she shifted to his side, catching his gaze.  _Those beautiful eyes_. She forgot sometimes he was a dragon, if only because of those amber irises. Eyes told tales, and Smaug's had entranced her long ago.

"You prefer me as this, a weak and unimpressive man," He said pained. "You fear me again because of what happened in Lake Town. I can see the truth on you, for it follows and festers in your heart. It is the reason you continue to fail."

"Then your eyes deceive you. It is a lie you see if you think it true." She collected his face between her hands, holding him there to force her stare upon him. The weariness behind his eyes was bothersome, so she laid a kiss against his forehead, the ghost of a touch. "I admire the dragon. He has a wisdom that frightens me, and the phoenix in me strives to be his equal evermore. This apprehension you have been tricked by, it is only my fickle heart. I long for the man beneath because he showed me something I've never known before."

"Even after everything, you would still yearn and allow for my touch?"

She let out a gasp of air before speaking, a result from his long hands clutching around her hips, forcibly dragging her onto his lap. "I've been waiting for some time now, though I only just found the courage to say so recently."

"There is a phoenix in you Liliana, and I intend to shake her out. Leave the rest of the world to suffer in darkness, for I shall have all of the light in you." Through the tremors and shakes that wracked his body, he summoned the strength at least enough to tear away at the front of her makeshift gown. It had been threadbare and poorly sewn by her, a habit she was quickly picking up on while hoarding all of the fabrics she could find in Erebor. She scowled down at him, even through the blush on her cheeks to her ears. Her efforts of routine were always put at odds because of him, through fire and strength. His nefarious grin was unsettling, a torrent of heat coursing through her from it. "None else will know your beauty, only I. Such a selfish thing to steal from the world." He said while looking at her front.

"I would not dare to rob you of that. I think you enjoy it as well."

She ceased in speaking as he pawed at her white breasts, slight and peaked as they face him. With loose hand she held him to her chest, his mouth closing around the first dark circle, wetting the areola with the flat of his tongue. The stroking motions on her sensitive flesh made her dizzy, and she whined and panted with terrible indulgence.

"Be slow with me." Her voice was husky as she whispered this breathlessly to him. She wasn't sure on whether Smaug could be rushed or patient, but he was fierce and she felt that in the bruising force of his lips as he pulled her tighter to his mouth. She was suspended over his lap, pushed up on both knees, hands lost to the darkness of his hair.

Smaug was in an anxious mood, she could feel the losing of restraint in the shaking of his hands, holding on to her torso just under her breasts. His thumbs traced the milky curves while he focused his mouth on suckling and nipping at her rosy peaks. His mouth brought a heat to her, the likes of which she had never known before. His face drew back and she let her hands fall from his hair to slowly gaze down at him. Watching, his hand hovered over her breast, cautious perhaps to feel her, to make this real before her sight. She leaned forward just a little more, and in turn his hand gently moved away. They were still claws even without black talons, curved to clasp, and by the Valar if she wasn't already driven mad to have them upon her.

His hands shifted to her waist and he deposited her carefully onto her back, crouching over her while the tinkling of coins fell around them from their movements. The gleams of light filtering through the mountain made his skin all the fairer to her, and she dared to take first glimpse at his staff through the patch of dark hair, jutting up from between his thighs. It was swollen to full length, throbbing with the hot blood coursing through it. Even as he staggered in fatigue from his change, all of his strength was prepared in his shaft, and she collected a handful of him in her tiny palm, stroking over the velvety flesh and the thick vein on the underside that seemed to twitch with life from her caress. His face twisted in desired and need, hiding his want from her as if it was something monstrous.

"Don't turn your gaze from me," She said while swiping her thumb over the head of his pulsating manhood. "It thrills me to see you this way."

"It will cause you pain." He grunted out as she squeezed him.

"A worthwhile sacrifice I suppose."

Her thighs were already in a great quiver of anticipation, her flower on fire with a pool of sweet nectar that dampened her underclothes. His hand came down over hers against his manhood, and he pried her away, sweeping her into confusion. He pinned her down with his mass, eyes reopened and aflame with desire as he tore at her garments until the frock split at the middle and was cast away from her body along with her harshly removed underclothes. She whimpered from the unexpected savagery, and was overcome with fear and arousal as his fingers danced their way over her warm core. "I will not let you go now my beloved phoenix. You silly little flower, you can never be free of me again; your hold on me is everything."

There was no guilt felt in her heart beneath her breast for his confession. Nay, it lit a fire in her chest stronger than all of the furnaces in Erebor. She had become accustomed to his possessive nature, and now she even craved it. The power she felt for being desired by one so mighty, it kept her in a constant state of dark euphoria. "Do you wish to terrify me? Because you are stronger . . . older . . . more powerful than I could ever be?"

His fingers pressed aside the soft folds of flesh at her centre, winding into the light patch of lavender blonde hair nestled between her thighs. A shocked gasp flew from her mouth as he pressed inside with a single digit, marking shallowly with the nail scraping against her fluttering walls. "I am letting you know what you are giving yourself over to. Once it is over, I will not let you go from my sight again."

Her slick walls pulled at his finger as he lightly thrust in and out of her with it, never delving too far in awareness of her maidenhead that guarded her chastity. A soft noise was pulled from his throat when more of her juices coated his finger. So he wanted her to want him. Lily was pleased by that, and she mewed in abandon as his thumb circled over her clit. "You sound so certain. Has this been your plan for some time?"

He paused briefly in his ministrations before returning to wiggle his finger about in her depths, all while giving her clit a pinch, the barest hint of the pleasure he could bring her; and the agony. "Your body plagues me. I have longed for you since it seemed it was the beginning, and not just myself as I am now."

Her eyes flew to his, understanding his words while being petrified by them. A sudden flash and she imagined the dragon, a great danger yearning for her that she had not been privy to. By now she thought she knew all the workings of the dragon, but for his lust. Was it for her queer beauty or for her virgin blood? He caused such a conflict in her for saying such things, and he was unapologetic as he continued to plunge into her with his invading finger. The nub at the apex of her centre was swelling, along with the wetness he caused to pour from her womanhood.

She was close to her peak when he suddenly withdrew, his hand sliding back to instead grab her by her wrists. He pulled her up to his lap without ceremony, and she could feel the wetness from her own arousal dampening the skin on her wrist where he held her upright to his chest. His hands released her to grip on the soft cheeks of her behind, lifting her forward so her breasts rubbed up against his broad chest. She watched as his eyes flitted down to them, giving her a heave up in his arms so they bounced jovially for him to see, the pink buds scraping his front like the gentle licks from a cat. He urged her body to curl to his, and her eyes shut as his thighs tensed to rut upon her with his hard length, the head of him brushing between her nether lips.

"Look at me Lily." He demanded without a trace of gentleness, and she trembled at the sound. Most of the warm light had left his eyes, furious need taking its place. His hands fondled with her plush cheeks, the only thing holding her up from being impaled on his thick member. "Only a thin veil stands between us. I need only let go and it shall be gone."

She recognized his hard tone as his shield, steeling himself from the pain he knew he would cause her. The tension in his arms pulled the muscles taut, a testament to how careful he was not to drop her. Her short nails dug into his shoulders as she hoisted herself up high, looking him in the face with their centres matched together between them. "It is your right, and it is for you. I only ask you be merciful."

He lowered her down a fraction, the head of his erected shaft pushing through her entrance, stretching her out which caused a burn in her eyes from the salty tears. He kissed the corner by her eye as one fell free, catching it on his lips as he drank up her anguish. "Careful of the tears you shed. Some things are meant to stay broken."

She cried out with a shiver as he lowered her more. The arousal which she had previously spilt was nearly diminished in its use. Nothing could prevent the searing pain, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping it would ease her passing into this new realm. He turned his neck in, capturing her mouth in a purposeful kiss to quiet her whimpers with the slid of his tongue around hers. His breath was hot, tasting in a blend of smoke and clove, but it did not distract her enough for what came next. He let go of her swiftly, bucking his hip upwards as she came down around him. He burst through the membrane of her maidenhead, drawing the innocent blood as it spurted lightly around his shaft. He grunted into her mouth as she let loose a cry around his tongue. She was broken at last, but fulfilled around him, and he cradled her head with a hand through her hair as their lips separated from the smothering kiss.

"You are all mine to take. Queen Under the Mountain, Lily of the Valley," His throat was tight as he spoke, and through the bond she felt his heart bleed with her, shed in the same manner as her virginity. "Do not struggle my love. A fight will pain you all the more."

There was a strange kindness in being quick on his part, and he pressed her down further, keeping still even when she suspected he wanted to piston his hips onward towards release. "I hurt . . . but I refuse to surrender. Y-you don't have to take . . . I give t-this willingly." She hated to sputter her words, sounding a blubbering mess before him from the new wound within her.

His hands traced down to her hips, holding her firm while the pads of his fingers dug into her supple flesh, not judging of what was likely a common reaction. He shuddered, everything he felt passing through her as they were bound together by body and mind. In this position he hit so deeply within her for only the first time, and she was wrapped snugly around him. Her legs twitched in the temptation to thrash about in agony, and Smaug hummed lowly in his throat, content with feeling her regardless of the inaction.

"I do not wish for you to sob while I take pleasure from you," He said into her ear, lowering her back down to the floor while keeping them connected at her core. His back went straight as he held himself up-right over her by the strength in his arms, jaw clicking together tightly as his eyes blazed over her wrecked form. "I will continue, but do not deny me now, for it will only cause you pain."

He gave a shudder as he slid back, nearly withdrawing from her entirely before surging forward again. Her walls continued to constrict but be stretched by his movements, and she shook heavily with her arms out to her sides with her pale hair cushioning her face. The tears had stopped falling, and all of her focus was drawn to Smaug as he rutted her deeper into the flagstone floor. Usually it was covered by coins and treasures, but the gold had rushed away since their frantic start and she could now see the colour of the ground was an earthy green. Her mind didn't dwell on frivolity for long. Smaug's voice was huskier and softer as he cried small groans of pleasure. This was everything, his larger body sliding into her, reaching further down each time he came forward with his hips. He covered her completely with his body, so much that she could barely move her own, but for her arms that she wrapped around his shoulders.

"How do you feel?" He stopped to asked, his voice thick and strained with lust, all of his attentions entirely on her.

"The pain has dulled," She kissed the corner of his mouth while brushing the dark hairs out from his eyes that had fallen over his forehead during ecstasy. "I want you to continue."

He lifted back on his hands, confusing her as he pulled out suddenly with a wet  _'pop'_  resonating from the slickness between them. "Turn over." He commanded tensely, his face light and filled with emotion.

She pushed up on her elbows, heels digging into the floor while she gazed at him with question. "Why, what has happened?"

He laughed a little, hesitating a moment before answering, and it gave her pause to wonder if she had said something particularly amusing. "Nothing has changed Lily, though I sometimes forget you are young. I want to give you pleasure in a different way, and I prefer to dominate."

Oh," She blushed while rolling over, feeling his gaze on every inch of her creamy skin as she struggled on how to position herself. It was daunting to have her hips high in the air for him to see clearly, and she kept her head down with her hair falling over her shoulders. "What do I need to do?"

"Do not fight me; let me lead you."

She barely blinked before he was over top of her, the head of his cock back at her swollen cunt as he was poised to enter her. Her knuckles turned white against the floor as he surged back in, lighting a fire in her depths as he seated himself to the hilt. She gasped in time with him, both eager and whimpering at the new places he reached in her feminine walls. His length stretched her more, and it did not come without suffering. She struggled for purchase on the smooth floor as he started to move, marking his claim with slow, hard thrusts that caused his sack to beat against her clit each time he rolled forward. It had begun with him pulling at her hips to have her meet his thrusts, but Lily started to rock back on her own, picking up her natural pace, and Smaug only growled more.

"Such a generous little flower . . . I doubt if I am worthy of you." He panted lowly as his chest came down to glide over her back, driving him down far into her velvet walls. She felt as if there was a fire burning above her because of his heat, and their skin stuck together as a thin layer of sweat formed between them like cement. His thighs slapped furiously into her tender cheeks with his continued thrusts, and she jolted with fever as his hands cupped over her breasts that had been swinging loosely back and forth with every rush of their bodies. "I could take you forever."

"Smaug!" She protested without any conviction as he hauled her back up against his chest, his hips pistoning upwards in the awkward hold he held her in. His hands continued to paw at her chest, groping and tweaking the fleshy mounds which caused her to throw her head back into his shoulder and cry out in abandon. His nose trailed the column of her neck, stealing her scent into him as he inhaled, and tasted with his tongue. By magic or her own trick of mind, she thought for a second that she felt his tongue was sticky and forked as he lapped at her nape. A shock of pain blew the idea out of her mind as he sank his teeth hard upon her, pinching a generous proportion of flesh between his fangs, gnawing and sucking until she burned.

"Give in to me," He groaned, his right hand leaving her breast to fondle at her exposed clit. Lily felt her juices start to leave her, leaking down his length and collecting at both their thighs. The pads of his fingers were coated as he worked the delicate flesh of her centre, all while his staff drove home into her with brutal need. A light flutter started in the pit of her stomach, and she twisted her head back and forth against his shoulder, crying for it to either cease or continue as she was led on to this new plateau. "Come for me Lily, let go."

His voice was by her ear and inside her head as he tugged back on her hair, holding it like a rein as he rode her from behind. Her flesh felt chapped and burned as his skin continued to meet hers in a series of slaps that were accompanied with delicious squelching noises from how sopping wet she had grown. Her eyes opened with feared surprise as the feeling of her climax took hold, so unlike their time in Lake Town. A thick stream of her juices showered around his cock as she clenched down impossibly tight around him. The flow continued to pour, and she thought she might force him out of her entirely with the strength of her orgasm. She sobbed at her height in relief, lamenting her peak as she sprayed the last remnants around his stilled shaft.

Smaug had halted himself in her, toying with her clit to ease her down slowly from her climax, but he had yet to find his own release. He started up slowly again, his hips driving forward as he leveled her back to the ground on her hands and knees. She had little strength to hold herself up, but as she let her arms fall to press her cheek against the cold floor, he kept his grip on her hips all to himself as he stole his own pleasure from her heat. She felt his erected shaft swell and thicken in her pussy, and he let out a sharp bark of finality as he shot his release down to the barrier of her womb. She was painted in his seed as copious amounts continued to spurt from his tightened loins, moaning as he shallowly thrust the remains of his climax. He succumbed to the same exhaustion, falling down on top of her to the ground where they laid in glowing silence. His face was to her spine and his hands to her shoulders, kneading carefully.

He had not slipped from her aching centre even as he turned soft, as if he could go no further since being sheathed inside her. Lily continued to fall into a spell of hot and cold from the sweat cooling on her body and his form blanketed over her. She was certain her cheek might have even been permanently fused to the floor after lying there for so long. Smaug started to grumble above her, his face turning to rest his chin against her back so his mouth could be free to speak, and he did exactly that. "What do you feel for me Lily?"

"That is a tricky question to be starting with so soon." She muttered back in a tired tone.

He pressed her more, adamant for an answer now. "Will you ignore this beautiful event; the union in which we came together? Do you love me?"

There was a hint of desperation in his question, and pleading. "You want me to love you."

"If it is so much to ask from one with your purity," He said while kissing the space between her shoulders. "I know I am not a lovable creature, and I don't wish to have to take your love if you refuse to give it."

"I think you know my heart and where you reside in it." That he had even asked at all was a gesture of his respect for her, even when they both had known for some time of her transparent sentimentality.

He breathed out in solace, at peace with her answer. "Let me look after you."

She sighed when he removed himself from her, leaving her colder too when his form was gone from her back. With a hand on her hip he prompted her to turn over, and she did with the most languid of movements. He was knelt before her as she gazed at him with hooded eyes, asking her permission to spread open her legs as he nudged gently. Her attention was driven to him as he brought his head down between her thighs, and she felt jerked alive as his mouth came down on the skin that was covered in the evidence of their passion. The blood had already set in a pink stain that he collected on to his tongue, tasting both her release and his mixed together. His motions were smooth as he went about the task, and she suspected he was teasing her again when the tip of his tongue flicked lightly on her bud. She was cleansed thoroughly from his actions, and she lightly pushed him back with a hand through his hair.

"The habits of a beast I suppose, though don't feign disgust, I know you enjoyed that." He said with pure vanity in his voice.

"Perhaps we should bathe together. I could lick the beads of water off from your chest."

He paused from her perky jest before breaking out into a resounding laugh. "Oh look what I have done to you."

"Yes, you've corrupted me," Impassioned, she pushed up from the floor, leaping into his arms with her hands laced at the base of his skull. "Now carry me away my King."

He nipped at the same mark on her neck he had caused, bruised dark in red and purple like a pomegranate. "I adore you more than the sun Liliana."

She smiled with a kiss to his lips, pulling back only to rest her head down on his forehead with her reply. "And I you, more than the moon and stars."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I suppose that should please you lot! I hope it sounded in tone with the rest of the story. Forgive me, it's my first Middle-Earth lemon. Should I vanish again for some unforeseeable time, this at least got Lily and Smaug together in a semblance of peace, better than last chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed ;)
> 
> Chapter song for Smaug and Lily: Evening Ceremony by Active Child.

**Author's Note:**

> Story also on FF.net, a bizarre concept and probably a rare find, so I hope readers enjoy.


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